


Arrows Were Falling

by ab2fsycho



Series: I'm the Chip You're the Dip [5]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Other, Transphobia, and bill is full of fracking whims, at some point there will be violence, bigender!bisexual!Mabel, bill is human throughout most of this for reasons unknown, but not enough that it warrants a gore warning, even more overprotective Bill, i'm a slave to the whims of my characters, i'ma shut up now, in fact most of this was his idea, may be sexual content, much of this material might be trigger happy, not just dead sure yet, number of chapters subject to change, overprotective Stan, this is the first time i will be doing something like this, to the twins at least, trans!ace!Dipper, we'll just have to see, we'll see what happens yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 68,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mabel and Dipper are comfortable being themselves in Gravity Falls. Then a certain demon shows up again and, surprisingly, needs their help. Things steadily go downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gravity Falls was the only place that had felt like a safe haven to Dipper. Everywhere else he and Mabel felt a residual amount of fear. Who would find out? Who would tell? Who would out them to someone who would then see them as less than human? Every day was an exercise in being careful, finding new ways to hide. People were more accepting of Mabel's secret than they tended to be of Dipper's, so they both worked to keep their secrets well-hidden. The only other person in Gravity Falls aware of those secrets was Grunkle Stan, and there was no fear of him sharing. He would take it to his grave if he had to.

Dipper once thought about telling Soos or Wendy what he was experiencing, but he was afraid. He was always afraid. It wasn't like they'd hate him. He knew that wasn't the case at all. It was just that Soos had a hard time keeping secrets and wasn't prone to blunders. And Dipper had had a crush on Wendy and as a bonus, her family was really, really frightening at times. They could be so intense, he feared what their reaction would be should she slip up and say something. Not that she would. Dipper just worried.

Things got infinitely more difficult to hide and deal with one particular summer. The twins were hanging around outside when they heard a familiar voice grumbling behind them. Turning around, the last thing they expected to see was a human in tattered clothing traipsing through the forest and babbling about the inconveniences that were legs. If they didn't recognize the voice, they definitely recognized the eyes.

When the individual spotted them, a moment of quiet passed among the three of them. Then the stranger adopted a terrifyingly jovial facial expression and said in an exhausted voice, “Pine tree. Shooting star.” Dipper and Mabel screamed and were about to run for the shack when suddenly Bill (Bill in a human vessel, dear God what the hell) tripped on a root and collapsed on the ground. He didn't move after that.

Dipper and Mabel paused, looking from the demon to each other with unsure expressions on their faces. Mabel was the first to move, stepping over to the unmoving Bill and shoving him with her toe. He didn't respond. She kicked him a little harder, making Dipper shout, “Mabel!”

“What? He's not moving.” Indeed he wasn't. Crouching down, she pulled back one of Bill's eyelids. “It's still him, too.”

Dipper's face pinched. “You mean he didn't steal that body?”

“Beats me. What do we do?” Dipper shrugged, mouth slightly open as he struggled to come up with a solution. Then Mabel said, “We should probably make sure he's not dead.”

Dipper stared flatly at his twin. “Being of pure energy with no weaknesses, remember? He's not dead.”

“Yeah, but since when does Bill Cipher pass out and stay stuck in a human body? We could at least see if the vessel in question is okay.”

Mabel was infinitely more reasonable than Dipper was in many cases. This wasn't one of them. However, Dipper still wound up helping his sister drag Bill back to the shack. When they showed up, Grunkle Stan and Soos were building something. It was in its early stages, so they couldn't really tell what it was. Both looked up, their great uncle asking, “We can't keep it,” like they were carrying in a new pet. “The pig's enough of a problem.”

“Waddles isn't a problem!” Mabel cried.

“It's Bill Cipher, Grunkle Stan. This is his new . . . body. And he just passed out,” Dipper explained in lieu of arguing with the man.

Grunkle Stan squinted, then snorted in disbelief. “That can't be Isosceles Jackass.”

“Why?” Dipper asked.

“Because I warded the place after my niece's disastrous musical. That's why! If that's him, he shouldn't have been able to get in here at all.” He scratched his stubbled chin before climbing down the ladder. Coming over to Bill, he allowed the twins to continue holding the unconscious man up as he inspected him. Looking under Bill's wrists, turning over his arms, he appeared to be looking for something. He apparently found what he was looking for when he lifted Bill's ragged shirt and found a sigil on his lower back. “Goddammit!” he cried out before coming back around in front and slapping the demon across the face. Bill's eyes opened for a moment and a groan fell from his lips before he fell comatose again. Then Grunkle Stan turned on them. “Why'd you bring him here?”

“Why're you feeling him up?” Mabel countered.

“What does the sigil mean?” Dipper retorted.

“It means someone trapped him in this form and now he's stuck in reality!”

“Stuck? As in can't go back to or do anything in the mindscape?” Dipper asked. Grunkle Stan nodded. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

“Throw him back outside! We're not keeping him,” Grunkle Stan declared. Dipper was actually close to agreeing with Grunkle Stan on this one rather than bucking the old man's wishes.

“Shouldn't we be concerned about _why_ he's trapped in this form?” Mabel pointed out.

“Don't bother me with the facts,” Grunkle Stan said, pointing a stern finger at her. “He's trouble! Kick him out or I'll have Soos do the kicking.”

Dipper sighed, starting back towards the door. He didn't stop until he realized Mabel wasn't moving with him. Looking at his sister, he realized she had that look. He knew the look well. It was the one where she had clearly made a decision and was going to stick to it come hell or high water. Sighing, Dipper wasn't surprised in the slightest when Mabel bit out a soft yet steady, “No.”

“Excuse me?” Grunkle Stan was as much in disbelief as Dipper was in conflict. He wanted to side with his great uncle, but then he'd have to risk enraging his sister.

“We need answers. I'm gonna get 'em. Right Dipper?”

Ah shit, Dipper thought. He quickly sidestepped this one, unwilling to go against either party. “Don't look at me. I just wanna stop holding the demon up, okay? Back's hurting, you know?”

They'd come to a stalwart, the three Pines family members staring each other down to see whose will was weakest. None, really. They were all too damn hardheaded to step down. Meanwhile, Dipper's back actually was starting to hurt and the demon started groaning again.

It felt like hours before Grunkle Stan held up his finger and said, “One night. That's all you got to figure out what's up, then he's out,” he finished by gesturing to the door with his thumb.

And then Mabel and Dipper were dragging Bill upstairs.

:)

When Bill awoke, he felt about as awful as he did racing through the woods. At least he wasn't passed out on the forest floor. Groaning loudly, he kept his eyes shut tight against the lights. “I hate bodies,” he grumbled suddenly.

Then a voice replied, “That's not what you said last time.”

Sliding his lids open just the slightest bit, Bill turned his head— “Ouch!” Mistake! Mistake! Moving was a mistake! His groans turned to snarls as he got frustrated with the shell he was stuck in. Electing not to turn his head, he was forced to open his eyes fully to see who it was in the room with him. “Oh,” he muttered. “Hey, Pine tree.”

“You're a bit cheerful for someone who tried to kill us a few years ago,” came another voice. Closing his eyes again, he figured it had to be Shooting star's.

“Well,” yeesh, his mouth was dry, it felt disgusting, “the two of you were too dumb to do this sorta thing. Kinda miss the stupid ones.” He coughed, his whole body arching as he did so and he was reminded of just how much it hurt to move. His legs ached something awful, feet especially. Shifting his legs a little, he grimaced as he felt every cut, every bruise on his calves and soles react to the movement. How long had he been running through the woods again?

“Who did this to you?” Shooting star asked.

“And why?” Pine tree added.

Bill's head started to feel foggy, like he was going to pass out again. Ugh, he hated this. He suddenly hated everything about being human. It was fun when it was temporary, but being forced to stay in a body was torture. He missed the mindscape. He missed its infinite nature. 

It occurred to him that it was funny the kids actually knew what he was talking about when he said someone had done something to him. Must have been Stan. Stan must have figured it out and told them. “Asshole,” Bill murmured, feeling just how cracked and chapped his lips were. Jeez, lips were weird. Everything was weird, especially the way the heart pounded so loud he heard it in his ears. And his gut, ugh. It felt empty and hollow and it ached from its lack of contents.

“He's not answering. Let's throw him out.” Gee, thanks Pine tree.

“No, something's wrong.”

“Everything's wrong,” Bill bemoaned halfheartedly as he started feeling just how soft the . . . whatever it was he was lying on. Wow. Talk about relaxing. Well, as relaxing as one could get after what he'd been through.

“Bill, just how long were you roaming about in that body? Have you eaten or drank—drunk, drank, whatever—anything?” He very carefully shook his head in response. “Bill,” Shooting star said a little slower, “how long have you been like this?”

“Few days,” he vaguely remembered whispering.

“Bill, your vessel can die, you know,” Pine tree said.

“And if he can't get out, does that mean—?”

“Yep,” he answered Shooting star's question before she could finish asking. “Well. Kinda. Not sure.” He was drifting off again. Were humans so easily exhausted all the time?

“Mabel, what—?”

“Water. Now.” Bill felt like he lost consciousness again for a brief amount of time, only to be woken up by something cold and liquid filling his mouth and sliding down his throat. He choked at first, spewing some on himself. When he recognized what it was, he ignored the muscle aches and wrapped both fists around the cup. “Slow down,” Shooting star scolded as he drank a little too quickly for her taste. Only when he drained the cup did he come up for air.

And as soon as the cold water hit his guts, he was out again.

:)

Mabel watched over the demon as he slept, Dipper at her side the whole time. How he had managed to heat up some soup without burning down the house, she had no idea. They were waiting for it to cool down enough to try and feed it to Bill. Even after he'd guzzled down several glasses of water, they still hadn't received an answer from him about who had done this to him. He was simply too exhausted to speak extensively. The only way Mabel knew how to get him to open his mouth was to make him well again first.

“Hasn't it occurred to you how strange this is?” Dipper asked. “We're nursing Bill Cipher back to health. Bill. Cipher. Being of pure energy with no weaknesses who tried to kill us once.” He squinted. “Twice?” He shook his head. “Whatever. It's weird, isn't it?”

“Yeah. But he's not exactly all powerful right now. Does he look like it to you?” she asked, gesturing to the unconscious man they had situated on her bed.

“I'm just . . . wondering if helping him is a good idea, is all,” Dipper said, adjusting his cap and drawing his knees tighter together.

“The way I see it, whatever or whoever did this to him is strong enough to trap a demon. He, she, or they could then easily do harm to us or Gravity Falls. We'd probably need Bill's powers to put a stop to their plans.”

“What makes you think he'd help?”

Mabel gave him a droll stare. “You honestly think he'd let someone who trapped him in human form get off scot-free?”

“I see,” Dipper said, squinting. “So are we now helping him catch his trapper?”

“Let's focus on getting him back to his usually chatty, assholeish self first.” Then she saw Dipper sit on his hands and hunch over. It was her turn to squint. “What are you such a nervous wreck about?”

“I just,” he sighed, hesitating. “It's just . . . does he have to stay here? With us?”

“Where else are we gonna keep him?”

“We can't keep him. Grunkle Stan—”

“Leave him to me.”

“Mabel,” Dipper shushed her with his expression alone. “What if . . . what if . . . I don't want anyone to know,” his voice dropped to a whisper as the sentence went on. “About me.”

Mabel's features softened as Dipper further shrank in on himself. Reaching for her twin's arm, she pulled one of his hands out from under his legs to squeeze it. He squeezed back, but not with as much enthusiasm as she would have preferred. “He won't be around long enough.”

After a moment of trepidation, Dipper asked, “You're sure?”

She nodded. “You're safe here. _We're_ safe here.”

Dipper nodded, but she got the sense that he didn't quite believe her. Honestly, she wasn't sure she would either.


	2. Chapter 2

For a demon who'd expressed an interest in them based on fascination and something they thought to be hatred, Bill was a surprisingly easy patient. He didn't argue too often, claiming he didn't have the energy to. That seemed fair enough, as the most they got out of him before he drifted off again was a tiny complaint of how weird human food was and how exhausting it was to have a body for an extended period of time. Dipper guessed that was why Bill had been sleeping most of three days he'd been with them. Mabel had managed to get him cleaned up with Soos's help, as Dipper refused to aid in that aspect. Since he was reluctant to help there, he was usually assigned the task of making sure Bill ate and drank something.

After managing to get Bill to eat half a sandwich and a bit of pickle, which he promptly spit out because it tasted weird, Dipper started gathering dishes only to realize Bill actually wasn't passing out immediately. Instead, he was watching him with tired eyes. Dipper didn't say anything, reluctant to converse with the confined demon unless he was willing to talk about how to get himself back to normal and out of their lives again.

Bill apparently had other ideas. “I knew you kids were nice, but I didn't think you'd be this nice.”

Dipper's eyes narrowed almost immediately as he paused in gathering the dishes. “What makes you think we're nice?”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Idiot. I watched you. Carefully. For at least two summers.”

The reminder made Dipper's spine tingle, forcing him to shiver involuntarily. He'd never quite shaken the feeling of being watched since that first summer in Gravity Falls, and having confirmation that his feelings remained fairly justified actually did not help him in the slightest. “Don't remind me.” Dipper stood, holding the plate full of scraps with an empty cup balanced atop in one hand. “Any chance you wanna tell us who's got you bound yet?”

“I don't know, Pine tree. I'd think this sort of thing would be obvious to such a mystery solver as you.” 

The sarcasm wasn't enough to cover what Bill was likely trying to hide. “You don't know, do you?”

Bill grumbled, “Of course I know. Stop being so stupid.”

“Then why aren't you telling us? I don't know if you've noticed, but Mabel actually wants to help you out—”

“And you don't give a damn, do you?” Bill turned a gimlet stare on him that was as equally unimpressed as Dipper's.

Dipper sighed, taking his turn to roll his eyes. “I want you gone. And I want whoever's endangering us gone. Easy enough for you?”

Bill's eyebrows raised as he pursed his lips in thought. “I gotcha. But unfortunately,” he sank down into the bed with an aggravated huff, “I can't tell you.”

“Are you serious?” Bill almost said something smart in response, but Dipper beat him to the punch. “Part of the binding, isn't it?”

“Very good!” He yawned, lips pulled back like a cat and teeth bared. “You're not completely useless,” he said through the yawn. As soon as Bill closed his mouth and turned to look at Dipper, he realized Dipper had taken a step back and was cringing with eyes wide. “What's your problem?”

“Your teeth,” Dipper stammered out, recalling the shape of the demon's teeth. He couldn't recall if he'd ever seen Bill yawn so obnoxiously, but he certainly would have remembered seeing them before. “They're . . . fangs.”

Bill was still for a moment, then he loosed the biggest, toothiest grin Dipper had ever seen. Dipper made a noise of perturbation before Bill commented, “I didn't lose _all_ my demonic features, Pine tree.” His tone and gaze turned bitter then as his lips returned to their normal position, “Though having my powers would be nicer—”

“Your normal form doesn't have a mouth!” Dipper burst.

“You don't know that,” Bill retorted nonchalantly.

Dipper had a hand in the air, clenching at something invisible as he grasped for more to say. Instead, he sighed and dropped his hand before turning to leave. “The sooner we get you back to normal, the sooner _we'll_ get back to normal,” Dipper grumbled on his way out.

Because as much as he adored Mabel's desire to help people to the best of her ability, Dipper couldn't wait to have enough privacy to not feel self-conscious about just about everything again.

:)

Dipper and Grunkle Stan were going through the books in search of ways to get Bill back in his normal form when Mabel entered the kitchen. “I loaned Bill some of your clothes, Dip. You should see him.”

“I bet he looks _fantastic_ ,” Dipper sneered, ignoring her completely. Mabel glared at her brother, who was very clearly getting irritated with the search. “Got anything yet, Grunkle Stan?”

“Nope. Nothin' but singed pages and scorched in codes.” The old man slammed his book shut and declared, “Let's kick him out now!”

“No!” Mabel said, stomping to punctuate her statement. Both men groaned. “I just had to explain to a grown ass demon how to put on underwear! Don't even!”

“Wow. How'd you get him in that reverend outfit way back when if he doesn't know how to put on underwear?” Dipper asked.

“Beats the heck outta me. Grenda handled that costume.”

Dipper shook his head, and Mabel could practically hear the questionable thoughts crossing her brother's mind. Come to think of it, Grenda probably just shoved Bipper into the outfit without his consent. Grenda and Candy always did have a bit of a thing for Dipper. Dipper, of course, usually ran away from them screaming too often to notice, though. Probably for the best. Somehow, Mabel didn't see either of them as a good match for Dipper.

Dipper was about to turn and say something to Mabel when they heard a series of thumps accompanied by something crashing to the floor upstairs. Dipper got up, following Mabel out of the kitchen towards the stairs in time to see Bill tumbling down the stairs head over heels. They stopped just before the demon hit the bottom of the steps, back flat on the floor and legs draped up the wooden stairs. Bill shook his head before looking up at the two of them with a grin. Before he could greet the twins, Dipper shouted, “Can you just, I don't know, go downstairs like a normal person?!”

“No.” Bill's answer was curt, yet his tone was amused at Dipper's outburst.

“Bill, you can really hurt yourself doing that. You probably shouldn't until you can heal properly again,” Mabel said more reasonably.

“Nah,” Bill said, slowly propping himself up on his hands. He let out a groan as his movements grew slower and more pained. “Then again, maybe.”

“I promise, when you get back to your form I'll push you down the stairs myself,” Dipper said as he and Mabel both moved to help Bill onto his feet.

“It's no fun if someone pushes you,” the demon griped.

“No kidding,” Dipper replied with more malice than Mabel was used to hearing from him.

Leading a somewhat staggering Bill into the kitchen, Grunkle Stan let out a loud huff before standing and gathering his materials. She looked the demon over long enough to gather that Dipper's clothes were, in fact, too small for him. It might have been laughable, how tight they fit the demon, if Grunkle Stan weren't grumbling and Dipper weren't scowling down at the work he still had left to do.

Mabel left Bill with Dipper to pull something from the refrigerator for them to drink. When she turned back around, Dipper had also turned his back on Bill to resume searching but Bill was far from content just to stand idle. No, he was steadily leaning down with mouth agape and fangs bared. He was moments from nipping Dipper's ear, her twin completely unaware of the impending doom as she cried out, “Bill!”

Before Dipper looked up and screamed, the sound more high pitched than anyone was expecting, Grunkle Stan struck the demon across the head. “Ow! Son of a—!”

“Leave one mark on my niece or nephew, and I'll skewer you myself!” their great uncle declared before stepping out of the kitchen with his research.

With Dipper leaning as far from Bill as possible without losing balance and Bill rubbing the now sore spot on his head, Mabel sighed. “Bill, why are you trying to bite my brother?”

“I was just messing with him. Kid walks like he's got a stick up his ass.” At that, Dipper punched Bill hard in the arm. Rubbing the spot Dipper had punched, Bill uttered, “Yeesh, you learned to throw a hook, didn't you?” 

Mabel guessed Bill was feeling better, and that she was going to have to get used to pulling her brother and the demon apart now.

:)

Bill grew more mobile as the first week of his stay reached its end, though he did not lose the propensity to injure himself whether intentionally or unintentionally. Half of Mabel's and Dipper's job became bandaging the demon whenever he managed to make himself bleed.

With Bill up and about, however, Dipper was even more lacking in the privacy sector. He discovered this one day when he was showering and he heard the door slam open. He went stiff as soon as he heard that telltale voice, “Pine tree?”

Dipper had never, not once in his life, tripped on a bar of soap before. At least, not until that day. And he went down spectacularly, taking the shower curtain down with him and unleashing the most undignified scream. He hit his head on the tub and screamed, one hand reaching up to rub the spot while the other clutched the curtain to his body to shield himself. His hair was full of suds and the water was still splattering against him and the curtain covering him. Meanwhile, Bill was snickering over the tub and enjoying the show.

Dipper went red, mortified and glaring up at the demon who had absolutely no idea what knocking was. “Bill! Out!”

The demon stopped chuckling long enough to show Dipper his arm, which was decorated with a gash. Dipper rolled his eyes at the addition to Bill's collection of injuries. “First, tell me where to get the bandages for this.”

Somehow, Dipper didn't feel any sympathy for the demon. “Couldn't Mabel have—?”

“She's locked herself in the bedroom with her two monsters.”

Grenda and Candy. Of fucking course. “Can you step outside and wait?”

“Why? It's not like I haven't seen a naked man before, Pine tree. I'm pretty old, you know?”

Dipper was so flushed he pulled the curtain over his face. “I don't care. Please get out and let me get ready.”

There was a pause, but Dipper heard no footsteps. Then Bill asked, “Would it make it easier if I were naked too?”

“NO!” Dipper shouted, peeking over the edge of the curtain to glare at Bill.

“Seriously? It's the same as yours, kid.”

On the contrary— “Bill, I swear to God, I will do literally anything you want if you just go to the kitchen and wait a little bit for me to meet you.”

“But I'm bleeding now—”

“Get a towel,” Dipper jabbed a finger in the direction of the towel rack, “apply pressure to the wound, and go wait!”

“Fine! Yeesh!” Bill yanked the towel off the rack and proceeded outward.

Before he could leave, Dipper shouted, “And shut the damn door!” The demon slammed the door closed just as loudly as he'd slammed it open. Once he finished his shower and had gotten dressed, Dipper ignored the privacy sign on his and Mabel's bedroom door and barged in on the giggling trio of girls. Ignoring the questioning looks and cooing girls, Dipper walked into the middle of them and proceeded to drag his twin out the door. In the hallway, he gestured frantically at her as he growled out, “Can you warn me next time the others are over please?!”

“Dipper, what—?”

“Bill barged in on me while I was _showering_!” Dipper whispered harshly, still red in the face and angered at the encounter.

Mabel's eyes went wide. “Did he—?”

“No, he just,” Dipper bit his lip and clenched his fists to stop them from shaking. “How much longer does he have to be here?”

Mabel shrugged nervously, clearly discouraged by how much trouble Bill was causing Dipper. “Until we figure out how to get his powers back, I thought. But—”

“I haven't been this freaked out since gym class in middle school! I just don't want to be outed, okay?” Dipper snapped, chest heaving and heart pounding.

Suddenly Mabel set her jaw and straightened up. “Dipper, you have been chased by supernatural beings of all kinds, and you're worried about a demon finding out you're—”

“Yes! Yes I am! Especially when that demon is Bill 'here have a screaming head' Cipher!” He held his hands like he was ready to choke her, but she made no move to back away. Instead she folded her arms resolutely and pursed her lips. “You are literally the only person I trust here. Please,” Dipper clasped his hands together, “help me find a remedy for this situation as fast as possible.”

“Okay,” she said, slightly aggravated but he could tell she agreed that this was best. “Can I go hang out with my friends for now, though?” She pointed a thumb at their room.

Dipper started to argue, then closed his eyes and sighed. “Sure. I gotta go patch up Bill's arm anyway.”

Mabel didn't ask. She did say, “We'll get it done, bro bro. I promise.” She pecked his cheek, then left him in the hall.

He wanted to demand she put her friends aside and help him now. He wanted to demand a lot of things. Instead he was stuck bandaging the resident demon's arm, shaking from the previous encounter. He envied Mabel. It wasn't that she was better at hiding. She didn't really have to hide, really. If anyone asked her what her gender or sexuality was, she was capable of telling them in a way that forced them to simply accept it. Dipper was not so lucky. Dipper lacked her social gifts and her confidence. He feared people more than Mabel ever had, and he certainly feared Bill more than she did. 

It was the combination of Dipper's many fears that forced him to stay up night after night looking for a way to get Bill out of the shack. He hadn't pulled all nighters like this in quite a long time, but he also hadn't had quite as big a desire to get an answer in just as long either.


	3. Chapter 3

How many pots of coffee would it take to kill him? He couldn't remember the exact number, but Dipper thought he was getting close. He still hadn't found the answer, and the words were starting to vibrate off the page so much that he couldn't make them out. Still he insisted on staring at them.

Mabel and Grunkle Stan had helped at various points in time, but at some point they'd started picking up books he'd already scoured. So Mabel went about making sure Bill was finally functioning enough on his own to not need constant attention and Grunkle Stan ran the shop. Dipper hadn't interacted with Bill much since the shower incident, though Mabel was sure talking to him would be more productive than going through book after book after book. In fact, he hadn't seen Bill in a few hours. Dipper would count that as a blessing. That meant he didn't have to plaster his back somewhere Bill couldn't sneak up on him. He shuddered as he remembered the last snarky comment he'd tossed at the demon. He couldn't recall the reason for the conversation (as much as it counted as a conversation), but at some point he'd asked, “I suppose you have a forked tongue too, huh?”

He probably should have, but he hadn't expected Bill to grin and make a, “Blech!” sound as his tongue unfolded out of his mouth. It wasn't forked, at the very least. That was a relief. But there was absolutely no reason for his tongue to be that long. It was longer than Gene Simmons's tongue, Dipper was positive. Cringing, he'd brought the book up higher to cover his face as Bill laughed at him. After that, the demon had not bothered him. 

Until now. Dipper was still staring at the same shaky paragraph when someone leaned over his shoulder to look at what he was trying to read. He jumped, slamming both hands on the table as Bill said, “That's not gonna help.”

“Go away!” Dipper automatically retorted, flexing his now sore fingers and trying to scoot his chair away from Bill.

“Your sister sent me to make sure you were still alive. She called down to tell you to go to bed at least five times.” Dipper hadn't heard her. Had she not been loud enough or was the coffee really affecting his perception of things? Bill made a move to close the book in front of Dipper then, bringing his attention back to what he was doing. Dipper quickly slapped a hand over the pages to keep Bill from succeeding in halting his work. His eyes went in and out of focus, and he felt like he'd moved faster than human possible. His heart was beating entirely too fast and he was breathing a little too heavily for a normal person. Too much coffee. He'd definitely had too much coffee. That or Bill really scared the hell out of him. Both were very likely. Bill laughed at him. “How far into the future can you see, kid?”

“Shut up,” Dipper half whispered, propping his head up with his hands once more as he continued trying to read. Now the words _really_ looked like they were moving. “I'm working.”

“You haven't turned a page in about twenty minutes. A sleep deprived Pine tree is not a clear thinking Pine tree. I know from experience.” 

Dipper stiffened. “You've been watching me?”

“Yes, it's fascinating how someone can sit in the same position for hours and days without solidifying entirely.” This time he moved into Dipper's line of vision and went to pull the book out of his hands and Dipper all but collapsed onto the book to keep it still. “Kid, is this really happening?”

“I. Am. Working.” He tried pulling the book out of Bill's grasp, but was unsuccessful.

“If you don't go to bed, I'll be forced to carry you to bed.”

Dipper squinted. “Why are you trying to get me to go to bed?”

“Because you haven't slept in three days.” Oh. Has it been that long? “You're not getting rid of me with the help of a book, Pine tree. Might as well do something else, like take care of yourself for once.”

“Why do you care if I take care of myself?” Everything Bill said sounded more and more suspicious to him. What was he planning? Was this a trick?

Bill didn't answer for a moment. Then he said, “The answer's a combination of 'I don't' and 'I kinda owe you.' It's complicated.”

That sounded like a Bill answer. “You don't owe me,” Dipper said, giving one last tug on the book before it was pulled out of his reach entirely. “You owe Mabel.”

“And coincidentally, she wants me to bring you to bed. Brace yourself, kid.” The next thing Dipper knew, he'd been yanked out of the chair, off his feet, and over Bill's shoulder. 

Dipper started off shouting incoherent phrases that soon switched to the more intelligible, “Put me down, right now!” as he beat his fists against Bill's back.

“Keep going. That feels pretty good,” was the demon's only response.

“Stop! Let go!” Dipper cried as he ceased hammering his hands. He hated being touched. He'd always hated people touching him without his permission. It didn't help his anxiety one bit that the person in question was not only carrying him, but was also a demon he very much wanted to be rid of. “I can get to bed the same way I got to the kitchen: without you!”

“You and I both know you would've stayed in the kitchen reading the same thing over and over. This is a better option.”

“I hate you. I hate you so—whoa shit,” Dipper had to close his eyes, the world was spinning so fast. His stomach started to twist and his head started to grow fuzzy. Clenching his fists into Bill's shirt, he uttered, “Slow down. Don't walk so fast.”

“If you get sick on me, I will plague you with any number of nightmares when I return to the mindscape. Got it?”

And yet he didn't slow down. Dipper started to feel even worse as they moved up the stairs, and he was having a hard time keeping his head up enough to struggle against the demon. His body went from stiff to feeling rather . . . weak, actually. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was going limp. By the time they were in his and Mabel's room, he was starting to feel the lack of sleep. He vaguely heard Mabel say, “I didn't actually mean for you to carry him up here,” before he was dropped unceremoniously onto his mattress. Dipper groaned, actually starting to feel sick from how tired he was and how many pots of coffee he'd had. Being moved against his will only added to the feeling.

“Either way, my job of the day is done.” A blanket was thrown on Dipper before Bill said, “And if you act pleasantly when you wake up, Shooting star and I might tell you what we found out.”

“Bill, we haven't found out anything,” Mabel uttered.

“Shh. He doesn't know that yet.”

“Yeah I do,” Dipper slurred out as he buried his face in his pillow, trying not to succumb to the dizzy feeling in his head and gut. “I'm right here. I can hear you.”

“Go to sleep,” Mabel and Bill ordered him simultaneously.

After all the fight he'd put into not being dragged away from his work, surprisingly Dipper didn't argue. As soon as he'd hit the bed, he realized he wasn't getting out of it again for a while. It was only a few minutes later that he drifted off and crashed completely.

:)

While Dipper slept, Mabel worked on adjusting the clothes Soos had loaned her to Bill's size. Unlike her brother, she was well-rested and ready to tackle such a project. Same for Bill, actually. He'd slept so much for so long that there were times he seemed wired. This was one of those times.

“So what do you remember before we found you in the woods?” she asked him as she tailored a shirt.

“I was summoned, then everything's a blank from there. Again, can't tell you names.”

“Can I guess names, though?”

Bill glared down at nothing in particular. “I'm not sure. Never tried that before, actually.”

“Really?”

“No one's helped me out with this sort of situation before, so yeah. Really.”

“How'd you manage to get out of these situations in the past?” She looked up to see he was grinning. Not just any grin, but a maniacal one that indicated that she really didn't want to know. Or rather, that Dipper wouldn't want to know. She actually was curious. “Did you burn a whole village down or something?”

Bill shook his head, losing the grin. “No, no. Too drastic, and killing the enchanter wouldn't actually solve the problem. Now, finding the place I was summoned and destroying the altar, yes. That'll do it.”

“You need an altar to be summoned? I thought you just needed—”

“An altar is for serious deals, serious sacrifices and such.” He glowered. “Or for trapping me.”

“So destroying the altar would break the entrapment?” He nodded. “Great, but . . . you don't remember where that is, do you?”

Bill let out an aggravated sigh before he dropped his head in his hand. “No. I was summoned, bound, and then I ran my ass out of there before anything else could happen. Into the woods, then lost as hell. Gravity Falls looks way different in reality than in the mindscape, come to find out. Then again, I spent more time flying over it than galloping through it.”

“Can you at least picture what the place looked like?” Bill nodded. “Maybe you can try drawing it.”

“You hid all the pencils and pens.”

That's right, she did. “That's because you kept intentionally stabbing yourself with them. In that case, is there another way to fix this?”

“I find the guy and force them to release me. If there's another way out, I haven't found it yet.”

Neither of these options seemed viable. She finished up the first shirt and tossed it to Bill to try on. As he did, something occurred to her. “Will the person who bound you have access to your powers?”

“No,” Bill said, pulling the shirt on. “I got out before they could finish the ritual to gain said powers.”

Mabel squinted. “So they'll be looking for you?”

“Yep.”

“Do they know what you look like?”

Bill shrugged. She picked up the next shirt for modification as he said, “They'd just forced me into this form when I broke loose. Seemed like they'd planned everything in advance except the necessary traps for human beings. Once human, the traps they'd laid for me were no longer effective.”

“And you didn't destroy the altar then?”

“I went into panic mode, Shooting star. You know the thing Pine tree does with his arms when he gets anxious? I do that, only I start running instead.”

“Funny,” she began, “I didn't think you'd have a panic mode.”

“I do when a meatsack is capable of such feats. Yeesh! It used to be that that was a threat whenever I was summoned. Nowadays humans don't believe in the stuff they used to, so I was honestly surprised for once.” He grimaced. “And now I'm pissed.”

“Then lemme start listing off names of people I know are in Gravity Falls.” 

They went through the people of the town pretty fast, Bill shaking his head at each one. She was just about to start listing off Manly Dan and his family (as unlikely as they were to be candidates) when Dipper grumbled out, “Leave me alone,” in his sleep.

Mabel looked up immediately, watching her brother carefully in case he needed to be awakened from a nightmare. Most of his nightmares started with those words. Dipper shifted onto his side and started shaking, and Mabel was about to get up and move to him when her attention fell to Bill. He was watching too. The demon muttered almost inaudibly, “Pine tree still does the thing.”

His tone sounded creepy even to her ears, and Bill Cipher had never really creeped her out. No, he'd been fascinating whereas he brother had found him frightening. So it struck her as odd that he managed to sound like the demon her brother feared rather than the one she found interesting. “Does what thing? Talks in his sleep?” she asked. Bill nodded without taking his eyes off Dipper. In fact, he was inching closer to her brother. “If he wakes up and punches you, it's your own fault.”

“Okay.” She watched as Bill settled in beside her brother's bed. Then Bill whispered to her, “Watch this.” Then the demon told Dipper, “Run faster, it's getting closer.”

Dipper flinched, but didn't wake. Instead he gripped the mattress harder and curled up more, body growing tenser. Mabel then glared at Bill. “Did you just make his nightmare worse?”

“Pfft. No!” He still didn't look at her as he spoke. Then he tapped his finger on the floor, counting seconds before whispering to Dipper, “Tree branch.” Dipper's hand actually swatted at something before Bill snickered. Mabel adjusted her seat on the bed, watching as Bill continued talking to her brother softly, instructing him in a voice quiet enough that he responded in his sleep instead of waking up. All the while Bill tapped his finger on the floor, counting in between instructions. Seconds after Bill uttered, “Almost there,” Dipper relaxed completely into the mattress. A few seconds later, Bill turned back to her and she flinched when she saw his eyes. He declared, “That was fun!” Scooting back to where he had been sitting, he added, “I've never seen him react like that in reality. He's just as expressive as in the mindscape!”

Mabel pointed at him, “One, your pupils are really, really dilated.” They were. On a human face, pupils that size were unnatural and terrifying. They reminded her of a cat that was watching whatever it was stalking before pouncing. Watching the excitement slowly fade from his gaze, she found herself hoping Dipper never saw his eyes do that or else he would have a heart attack. “Two, you just helped my brother through a nightmare.”

“Yeah. So?” Bill asked nonchalantly as his pupils slowly went back to their normal size.

“You've memorized his nightmares that well?”

“They're all generally the same. He finds a monster, the monster chases him. With me directing, the monster doesn't catch him.” His pupils spiked in size (if they did that often, she had never noticed before) as he said, “It's really fun to watch in the mindscape, but in reality it looks so intense! I mean, did you see his face? It was—”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you help my brother through his nightmares?”

He scoffed, as if the answer were obvious. “So I could continue picking his brain while he's asleep, obviously. It's easier to mess with his subconscious then, and when he gets nightmares like that he wakes up as soon as the beast starts shredding him.” 

Mabel cringed at Bill's wording. And here she'd thought he was being altruistic. Silly Mabel, she thought with a sigh. She had forgotten that Bill had watched her and her brother for a significant amount of time in their lives. The idea of him watching bothered Dipper more than it bothered her. If anything, she thought it was funny as long as the demon did them no harm. From what she could tell, it seemed like his presence had been less insidious than Dipper had imagined. “Did he ever find out you helped him like that?”

“Nah. What's the fun in that? He'd think I liked him or something.” There was a pause, as if he remembered something. “I actually did like the two of you. Really, I did. But I had bigger plans and sometimes one has to do whatever it takes to accomplish things. One of those things was keeping track of his knowledge of Gravity Falls, and I had to do a lot of things I didn't normally do to keep up with you kids.” He wiggled his finger at her. “The two of you were dumb, but not as dumb as the others in this town. By some accounts, both of you were smart enough to bring down whatever forces lurked here. But still dumb enough to not be entirely successful. Still pretty dumb compared to a lot of things I've seen.” She ignored the comments as he went quiet for a few more moments. Then Bill started to muse, “It's been a while since I've done that, manipulated Pine tree's dreams. Surprised he still gets the nightmares anyway, to be honest.” He turned to her. “You used to get them. I couldn't talk you through them though. You're more hard of hearing in the mindscape.” She actually smiled. Though she had no reason to, she actually believed him. Then he asked, “Do you still meow yourself back to sleep after a nightmare?”

It was her turn to scoff. “No.” His question then reminded her of something that made her snicker, bringing up the inquiry, “While you were watching us, did Dipper continue to sing his own personal theme song in the shower?”

Bill's laugh came out as a hiss, as did the word, “Yes.” She covered her mouth as she laughed with him then. As soon as she was done, she continued sewing and they continued trying to solve the mystery of Bill's entrapment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I no longer know how long this is gonna be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter I've uploaded today, so don't miss the other one.

When Dipper finally woke up, the light was pouring in through the window and he could tell how late in the day it was. At first, he didn't want to move. He didn't want to get out of bed at all. Then he heard Bill cackling from downstairs and remembered why he'd binged on coffee and books in the first place. Great. He needed to get back to that.

Sliding out of bed, he started huffing as the air stole from his lungs. Ugh, he hated this. He hated how much it hurt to breathe, but also hated taking off his binder. He shouldn't have worn it while sleeping, but he wasn't exactly given the opportunity to take it off. He hadn't been able to take it off unless in the shower lately. That reminded him, he should punch Bill the next time he touches Dipper without his permission. Also, he was going to punch Mabel. Maybe he'd apologize later for punching her, but at the moment he was still upset at both of them.

He seriously considered just bringing some books upstairs and shoving his binder under his bed, continuing to work while also giving his chest a break. Then he remembered they had a demon in the house who still didn't know how to knock. He settled with his latest routine and decided to go take another damn shower instead of risking being walked in on while in his own room.

Once in the shower, he sighed and appreciated the ability to breathe before any negative feelings started to sink in. He managed to go the entire time without being walked in on or falling on his ass, which was truly miraculous given the circumstances. In fact, Dipper thought he might be able to go the whole time without being interrupted once.

He was wrong. He was halfway dressed with a towel still wrapped around his chest when he heard footsteps and the door handle turn. Before it could slam open, Dipper put all of his weight against it to keep it closed. The person on the other side asked, “Pine tree?”

“No, it's the invisible goddamn wizard. Yes it's me!”

He heard the demon loose a snarl before saying, “Let me in. I've got a question.”

“The door is closed for a reason, Bill,” Dipper retorted. “Go ask Mabel.”

The pressure on the other side of the door left, and Dipper was tempted to stop leaning on it to keep it closed. He elected to stay put, as he didn't trust Bill enough to believe he wouldn't try busting in again. “I already asked her. She said she didn't know, but you might.”

“Okay. Ask me now.” As suspected Bill tried shoving the door open again. “From outside! Ask me from outside!” How many times did Dipper have to tell him? Really?

Bill started growling again. “You are such a _prude_.” Dipper knew. He got that a lot. “I thought sleep would make you nicer.”

“It does. Personal space also makes me nicer. Now what's your damn question?”

“I can't just ask it. I have to show you something.”

“What is it?”

Bill grumbled to himself. Then he was quiet for a moment before something slid under the door and hit Dipper's foot. “Look at that.” Dipper hesitated to move, wanting to pick it up before it touched a puddle that had gathered at his feet but also not wanting to let his guard down. “You can stop leaning on the door. I'm not gonna come in.” Well that settled that. As Dipper bent over to pick up the piece of paper, he heard the demon mutter, “Puritan,” at him. Dipper shook off the intended insult as he looked over the drawing. It was a fairly detailed pencil drawing of a room Dipper felt like he should recognize. High ceiling, untextured surface for the floors, no windows. There was a door, one Dipper swore he knew, swore he'd walked through before. Where, he didn't know. “I neglected to draw any of the traps or sigils the guy had in place in the drawing,” Bill said, interrupting his thoughts.

Dipper squinted at the picture. “You drew this?”

“Yeah,” Bill spat before mumbling, “idiot.”

“Where is this?”

“We were hoping you'd know. That's where I was summoned.”

Gripping the page in both hands, towel slowly coming undone from around his chest, Dipper said, “I definitely recognize it. I just gotta remember from where.”

“Great! So we still know nothing.”

Dipper wouldn't say that. Setting the picture down somewhere dry, he continued dressing as he asked, “Do you remember seeing anything else in the room?”

“If I did, I would've drawn it.”

Dipper thought of something, grunting a little as he pulled on the rest of his clothes. “Can you draw the person?”

“I tried. Either my people drawing skills are too crappy or the confinement is keeping me from revealing the enchanter's identity.” Now fully dressed, Dipper picked up the photo and stared at it once more. He knew he knew the place. It was just . . . missing something. He tried imagining objects in the room, like furniture or people or boxes . . . .

“That's it!” he cried, suddenly knowing exactly where the room was. Dipper opened the door and started yelling excitedly, “It's the place where he did the thing!”

“English, kid,” Bill said.

Dipper wasn't wholly aware of what he did when excited, which was why he wasn't so surprised with himself at having grabbed Bill's arm. Letting it go, he gesticulated with his hands as he let the picture go and it drifted to the ground. “It's the abandoned factory on a cliff. Gideon tricked me into going there to kill me once. Come on!”

Dipper started pulling the demon to the living room, where he was sure Mabel would be. When he found her, he shared the information with her immediately. She grimaced as the news dawned on her. “I probably should've guessed that,” she said, “but at the time I was a bit busy trying to get my crazed ex-best friend stalker not to hurt you.”

“If we go there right now, we might be able to find some clues. Let's go!”

:)

At some point, Dipper managed to contain himself enough to actually grab his journal and get in the car. Mabel drove them, Bill lounging in the backseat while Dipper sat quietly at her side at first. “Hey Bill?” she began nervously.

“You don't think . . . it wasn't actually . . .,” she paused, staring down the road. Then she stopped herself. “Never mind.”

“What is it?” Dipper asked.

She sighed, realizing she wouldn't be able to hide the question for long. It needed to be posed. “You don't think Gideon's out of jail, do you? Could he have done it?”

Dipper was also quiet, considering the options. “I thought he was still detained. I didn't think they'd let him out until he was eighteen.”

“Me too, but . . . who else would want to do this? Who else would summon someone there?” The twins thought for a long while before Mabel asked, “Bill, what do you think?”

He gave no answer, which could only mean one of two things: he really didn't know or he couldn't say. If he couldn't say, then Gideon just might be the culprit. The thought made them nervous, because at this point they didn't know anyone else outside of government officials who would try something as foolish as confining Bill Cipher to a human vessel and stealing his powers.

Pulling up to the building, it looked a little worse for wear. It hadn't been maintained since Gideon's imprisonment they guessed four years ago. Or was it five years? Mabel couldn't really remember. Unbuckling and getting out of the car, she heard a muffled, “Cut it out,” from Dipper followed by a chuckle from Bill.

Without looking at either, she declared, “If the two of you don't behave, I will get back in this car and drive you both back to the shack.” She didn't even need to know what Bill was doing to Dipper at this point. She just needed the two to get their shit together so they could investigate and be done with this place as quickly as possible. They managed to get out of the car without further trouble, but approaching the building wasn't as easy. She kept hearing quiet 'stop it's and 'don't touch me's out of Dipper. She glanced back to see Bill steadily poking her brother, and wound up rolling her eyes and giving up. She didn't even flinch when she heard the thud of Dipper's fist against Bill's side, Bill just barely reacting with more than a laugh and a grunt. “Seriously, guys. You two need to stop.”

“He won't leave me alone,” Dipper snapped through gritted teeth.

“Are you giving him a reason to pick on you?”

“No!”

“Bill, stop antagonizing my brother.” She heard him sigh loudly before they approached the door. Testing the handle, she discovered it was unlocked but hesitated to open it. Before she could make any further assessments, Bill pushed past her and went inside without so much as a word. Looking to her brother, they both shrugged and followed.

The space was vacant. There wasn't a single mark, box, anything. It looked clean, cleaner than an abandoned building should. There was no sign of anything Bill had told her about. No traps, no altars, nothing.

And he expressed his opinion of the situation with a loud, “Goddammit!”

Dipper kept his distance from Bill while she approached the demon without fear. “No altar? Shouldn't that mean you're—?”

“It means the bastard knows what they're doing!” The more she thought about it, the more it felt like it actually could be Gideon behind all of this. He would know what he was doing. He would also forget minute details of what he was supposed to be doing too.

“Let's look around,” she decided.

“The place is spotless,” Dipper protested.

She shook her head. “I doubt that. Look for something. There's gotta be a clue or a hint somewhere.”

With his book tucked under his arm, Dipper obeyed. She started searching too, though she was more inclined to believe her brother's observation. There was here. It was almost immaculate, which just didn't sit right with her at all. She tried to focus on looking for something, anything, but was soon distracted by Bill pestering her brother again. “You don't have to follow me throughout the place,” Dipper grumbled. There was a pause before he then spat with a little more force, “Go search over there or something. Get off me!”

“Yeesh kid. Fine.” Then the demon meandered about, searching in places Mabel and Dipper had not yet encountered. She glowered at the floor, tracing patterns in it with her eyes but not quite making out what she was seeing. For all she knew, she was staring at residue left behind by whoever had cleaned the place. Then again, it was so faint she could very possibly be staring at nothing. “You know,” Bill started musing aloud from afar as her foot neared the markings she was staring at, “the guy missed a good opportunity to set up a—”

He was about to say trap. She knew this before the sentence concluded. Before Bill could get the last word out though, there was a bright flash of light. Mabel was swept off her feet and the only thing she could think to do was scream.

:)

“Mabel!” Dipper shouted as he watched his sister fly up into the air. She stopped moving midair, suspended above a once invisible now brightly glowing blue set of markings on the floor. She was unconscious, but otherwise unharmed as far as he could tell. He could tell very little from this vantage point. “Mabel no!” He started towards his twin, panic overriding any sense he had as he started to run.

“Stop stop stop!” Bill cried rapidly, intercepting Dipper before he could get any closer.

“I have to save her!” Dipper argued, struggling against the demon as he started shoving him back and dropping the journal in the process.

“Stop and think about what you're doing, kid.” In two steps Bill was behind Dipper with his arms encircling his waist, the demon strong enough to hold him back. “Look at the markings. Think about what they're doing.” Dipper stopped fighting long enough to pay attention. Watching the patterns scrawled onto the floor, he realized they were mirrored onto the rafters and ceiling. Trying to recall what little he knew, he was partially forming an answer in his mind when Bill said it for him. “We take her down, the whole building comes down on us.” Dipper's chest constricted, teeth gritting as his limbs felt heavy and weak. Before he could come back to his senses, he dropped to the ground and grabbed at the journal. He started flipping through the pages desperately, but was coming up with nothing. Nothing, there was nothing about this in his journal. What was he supposed to do? How could he save his sister without killing them both? The only thing that stopped him from falling deeper into hysteria was a hand dripping down on the book and forcing him to stop turning anymore pages. He looked up at Bill, who knelt before him and whispered, “Get out of here.”

Dipper stopped, unsure he'd heard what he'd just heard. Then it registered and he stiffened. “No, I'm not leaving you with—”

“That trap was set for me, Pine tree! The enchanter knew I'd come back!” He lowered his voice, saying, “I'll get her out. You get out first.”

“I can help,” Dipper growled.

“Yes, by leaving. I can only save one of you, now don't argue. Just get out.”

Dipper squinted, heart pounding loud in his ears. Yet he still heard what he was being told. This didn't sound right. This didn't sound like the demon he knew. This was another trick, there was no other explanation. “Why are you doing this?”

Bill apparently still had enough time to scoff at the question. “I told you, I owe the two of you.” Then his grimace turned into a sickening grin. “Unless you wanna make a deal.”

Usually, Dipper would freak out and punch him for even suggesting such a thing. Staring at Mabel as she hovered in midair with no other hopes of getting down though, he realized his lack of options. He didn't know how to fix this, and Bill was offering. Still, he didn't trust the demon. He couldn't. He knew what Bill Cipher was capable of. That led him to wonder what it was Bill could possibly want from him. “I have nothing to offer.”

Still Bill held out his hand. “I'll think of something later.” Dipper hesitated. Bill's stare grew more intense the longer Dipper stared at him. “I never go back on my deals, Pine tree.”

Before he could contain himself, Dipper blurted out, “Bullshit!” That was an outright lie and they both knew it.

Bill smirked as if he knew exactly the event Dipper was thinking of. “Do you really think you would have found McGucket's name if I hadn't crushed the laptop? That search was getting you nowhere, kid.” Dipper thought about it, but he didn't want to admit that he saw Bill's point. Glaring at the demon, he didn't want to admit he was right. But then his gaze shifted from Mabel to the hand and back again and he knew he had to trust Bill. Dammit, he didn't want to. He just wanted to run up to his sister and pull her down, but there was no guarantee he could do that without getting trapped himself or bringing the whole factory down on them. “Come on! We wanna do this before the enchanter gets wise.”

He knew what he had to do, but he couldn't watch himself doing it. Only after closing his eyes did he reach up and shake hands with Bill. When Bill let go Dipper stumbled to his feet and, clutching the journal to his chest, he ran for the door. He didn't stop running until he was outside and had slammed full body into the car. Resting against the vehicle, he felt himself immediately want to run back in and make sure Bill held up his end of the bargain. He kept his eyes down, staring at the car and shaking from the fear.

Then he heard something large shift and shatter, making the ground tremble. He turned, dropping the book, to see the building coming down. He shoved both hands in his hair, feet rooted to the ground where he stood. Oh God, oh no, please no. He wanted to propel himself forward into the fray, but couldn't move. He couldn't even say anything. All that came from his mouth were pitiful whimpers as his fists clenched in his hair and he fell to his knees. He couldn't see them. He couldn't see either of them. There was no Bill, no Mabel, and he honestly didn't know if he could go back to the shack without them. He couldn't move, paralyzed as his heart continued pounding in his ears and the only other sound he could hear was his heavy breathing.

He couldn't see them. He should see them. Where were they?

The building crumbled before his eyes, large chunks falling off the side of the cliff. He heard the impact of walls and foundation hitting the bottom piece by piece, but still could not see who he needed to see, what he needed to see. He lost control of his breathing, lost track of his heartbeat. At some point his vision blurred from the dust that had accumulated from the demolished building. Blinking rapidly he tried to see through everything, tried to see anything. He was seconds away from screaming when everything started to settle and he still saw no one. He still heard nothing but the remnants of the collapsing factory at the bottom of the cliff. 

Then he heard it. Miraculously he heard a grumble he could understand over everything else. He crawled at first towards the sound, then staggered up onto shaking legs as he moved to where the noise originated. “Bill?” he asked a little too soft. His throat was horribly dry and too closed off to really cry out. “Mabel?” He neared the disheveled landscape, stepping over rubble and searching, desperately searching for signs of the demon and his twin. He swallowed down what he could before calling out again, “Bill!” He heard the grumble again, and moved to where the cliff ended.

Dangling over the edge of the gorge by one arm was the demon, Mabel slung over his shoulder. He strained to look up at Dipper before ordering, “Grab her!” Dipper obeyed, hands clutching at Mabel's sweater as Bill shifted her up enough for Dipper to wrap his arms around her waist. Using all his strength, he pulled her over the edge and onto the surface. With her safe, Bill started to pull himself up too. Before he could recall who it was he was helping up, Dipper grabbed Bill's arm and gave the demon some extra leverage on his way up. When all three were safe on the surface, Dipper hastily checked to make sure Mabel was still breathing. She was. She had a steady pulse and she was as unscathed as someone who'd survived a crumbling building could be. Before he could question just how she'd been saved or his own actions, Dipper threw his arms around Bill's neck. The demon stiffened under the contact, not wholly sure what Dipper was doing. In all honesty, Dipper didn't know either and he was probably going to regret this later. No, he was definitely going to regret this later, as he would never be able to live down the fact that he'd hugged the floating triangle trapped in human form. “Kid, what—?”

“Thank you.” Tears pricked his eyes, and for the moment Bill could rip the heart out of him and he'd be fine with that because Mabel was safe. Mabel was safe, and the demon had saved her. “Thank you,” he repeated, unsure of what else to say.

There was an awkward pat on his shoulder as Bill said, “No problem, Pine tree.”

When Dipper finally pulled away, he was red in the face and didn't look at the demon. Electing to turn back to his sister, he proceeded to gather her up in his arms and carry her away from the wreckage and to the car.

If he'd looked at Bill, he would have seen that the demon's eyes were little more than blown pupils now.


	5. Chapter 5

When Mabel awoke, she was lying in the backseat of the car. Stirring, she realized they weren't parked where they were originally. She felt this in the tilt of the vehicle. Opening her eyes, she could see Dipper in the driver's seat and Bill in the passenger's. It was dark out now, and she wondered how long they'd been out. “What happened?” she asked before even attempting to sit up. “And how have the two of you not killed each other yet?”

“You got caught in a trap,” Bill explained.

“We've been staking out the place to see if the guy comes back.”

Mabel sat up slowly, taking stock of how she was feeling. No pain so far. In fact, she felt fine. Peering through the windshield with the boys, she saw what was left of the building. “What the hell?”

“The trap was rigged so that if anyone tried to free you the building collapsed.” Bill lifted up a pair of binoculars (he must have pulled them from the glove compartment) before adding, “I doubt the enchanter will show up.”

“Probably saw the rubble from the distance and hightailed it out of here,” Dipper concurred.

“Seriously, what the hell is happening here?” she asked, gesturing to the two of them with a look of pure astonishment. “You're sitting next to each other. Willingly. And you're not getting into little baby fights.”

“Night's still young, Shooting star.”

“Yeah, don't—wait, shut up!” Dipper threw a weak punch at Bill's upper arm the demon hardly responded to. “What are you planning?”

“You just told me to shut up. What's the logic in asking me my plans?”

She could hardly see anything, but she knew from the tone of Bill's voice that there was a sharp grin plastered on his face that made Dipper shrink away in the driver's seat. “Really, what are you up to?”

She could just barely see Bill hold up a finger. “Wait and see, Pine tree. Wait and see.” He then pointed said finger at Dipper. “You owe me this round.”

Mabel could also tell she was missing a lot of context. Deciding to pull the information from them later rather than now, she joined in their watch for the enchanter who'd almost had her instead of the demon he'd probably been waiting for. It seemed like hours before they collectively decided that no one was going to show up, and therefore they should get home and get some rest. With Dipper driving, the trip home took a lot more time than the trip to the factory. They were quiet most of the way back. Even Bill kept his mouth shut.

The only interruption to the silence came when Bill started to stare at Dipper for an extended period of time. There was dead silence, then there was another weak throw of a fist from Dipper. This time he missed completely, Bill ducking out of the way before poking Dipper in the side. Dipper let out a half squeal, half growl before declaring, “Don't torture the driver!” as the car swerved a little before he straightened out the vehicle again. Bill laughed, Mabel fell over in the backseat. 

This was more normal for them. This was more like the Dipper and Bill relationship she'd grown used to breaking up. Only, there was something different and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

:)

Grunkle Stan had greeted them fretfully, like he just knew they'd done something dangerous yet again. Dipper couldn't help feel bad for Bill when his great uncle automatically blamed him. It was then Dipper quietly pulled Grunkle Stan aside and told him it was because of the demon they were both still here. He neglected to tell the old man about the deal he'd made with Bill to avoid a slap on the back of the head. Also, his head and chest were hurting too much to get into another argument. Grunkle Stan had reluctantly conceded to not condemning the demon further, though he still gave Bill perturbed side glances every now and then.

He tried not to worry about the deal, tried not to think of having hugged the demon in his relief that Mabel was alright. He wound up staying up the rest of the night because of the feeling, struggling to think of things that didn't involve Bill. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Perhaps it was because he had no clue what the demon would ask of him, and not knowing was twice as worse as knowing. When morning finally came and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, the others were up and downstairs long before he could pull himself together enough to get out of bed. Sighing, he sat up with his back to the wall as he thought about how he was going to approach this subject. He wound up distracting himself instead, reaching under his shirt to pull the binder out just a little to give his chest a little relief without having to go shower again. He didn't feel like enduring another shower so soon after the other, and for once he was alone enough to do this without being seen. When done, he once again failed to come to a conclusion on the subject at hand and elected to try not to think about it again.

That didn't work so well as he ambled downstairs to the kitchen where the others were. As soon as he saw Bill again, dread crept up on him and he cast his eyes down. Don't think about the deal. No, not yet. You don't have anything he wants yet, Dipper declared silently to himself. Somehow he wasn't reassured.

Approaching the others, he picked up on what they were discussing quickly and sat down. “Well, at this point it's the only way.”

“I agree, but I still don't like it. We'd be using you as bait,” Mabel said.

“Technically we could have used you as bait yesterday, but waiting and seeing what the enchanter would've done with you might have given Pine tree an aneurism.”

“You two totally should have gone with that.”

“No,” Dipper interjected, alerting them both to his presence. “Hell no, especially if Gideon really is behind this.”

There was a brief enough pause for Mabel to look like she was going to be sick. “True,” they agreed simultaneously.

Then Bill proceeded, “I'm just saying we go into town for a bit, have enough people see you guys with me, and if the enchanter knows what I look like then he'll know where to find me.”

Dipper noticed how the pronouns had switched from they to he, and was now wholly certain Gideon was their primary suspect. Honestly, that seemed about right to him. He still couldn't think of anyone else capable of such incredible magic. But without the books? It was frightening, recalling that would mean Gideon was doing all of this without the books. He couldn't imagine how much time the guy had had in prison, how much he could have learned when the only thing interrupting him was a dreary routine. Dipper shuddered at the thought. This led Dipper to ask, “Are we prepared to take on a person who trapped someone like you?”

“Pretty sure Grunkle Stan's working on the plan of attack. He'll set the house up with protection spells before we move forward with this,” Mabel reassured.

“If the enchanter hasn't left town. I doubt it, though. Why go through all the trouble to catch me if you're just gonna leave? Fucking coward!” Bill snarled as he clenched his fists and bared his fangs, getting angry over a theoretical situation. In the course of a few seconds, Dipper was reminded that he'd actually hugged that terrifying demon and he hadn't had his throat chewed out. He felt himself sinking in his seat at the sight of the demon, suddenly very disappointed in his lapse of judgment.

Dipper was still nervous about this plan, but accepted that it was likely the only way they were going to get the demon out of their hair now. Now all they had to do was wait until the opportune moment, and that actually threatened to drive him crazier than the fear of what Bill might ask of him. He tried to relax in the living room with Soos after working a shift in the gift shop, playing a few games until Soos had to leave. Then he was stuck staring at a blank television because he couldn't find the remote and he was so sick of reading after days of doing nothing but that he had no clue what to do with himself or how to distract himself. There was no sense in the frozen feeling that came over him, and yet it was happening. It was very much happening.

He huffed, fingers and legs twitching so much that he barely noticed Bill entering the room until he was already settling down next to him and draping an arm over his shoulders. Dipper slouched into the sofa, trying to get away from the arm but he just couldn't. “Can you, you know, stop touching me?”

“As soon as you stop acting like I'm gonna eat you every time I look at you.” Dipper hadn't thought of that, but now that the idea was in his head it wouldn't leave. He stiffened more as the arm tightened around him and he felt himself starting to sweat. Don't look at him, he thought. Maybe that would help. “Besides, you're the one who hugged me.”

Of course. He was wondering when he was going to have to deal with the repercussions of that action. He knew it was going to come around and bite him in the ass at some point. “I was showing my gratitude over you saving my sister. That's all.”

“Yes, and I'm certain you wanna know what I want in return, eh?” Dipper hadn't known he could, but he actually managed to shrink further. He made the mistake of looking up at Bill and quickly shifted his gaze away. The demon was grinning like he really was considering devouring him, and his eyes were . . . there was something wrong with them and he didn't want to stare too long to find out what. Nervousness crept up as Bill continued with, “No worries. I'm not gonna steal your soul or anything like that. Don't know if I'm patient enough to wait till I'm in the mindscape to decide.”

“Well,” his voice felt wobbly, but it sounded clear. Was it just him or was the arm getting tighter? His pitch elevated against his command as he asked, “What have you decided?”

Bill laughed, the sound so loud Dipper closed his eyes and jumped at it. “I haven't yet. You'll just have to wait and see!”

Dipper was shaking, hyper aware of everywhere Bill was touching. He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. He didn't like being told to wait and see when anything he possessed was hanging in the balance, and he didn't like being touched so often. Again, he asked in that shaky, high pitched voice, “Please get off of me. It's making me really, really uncomfortable.”

“Kid, I get less physical contact than you on a regular basis. I don't get why you're so touchy,” he poked Dipper in the chest and Dipper flinched as his eyes shot wide. Oh God, he'd just done that. He'd just poked him there. Dipper made the mistake of glaring up at the demon and suddenly he realized just what was wrong with his eyes. He was seconds away from screaming when Bill added, “It's funny to watch you squirm, Pine tree.”

Staring at his completely dilated pupils, Dipper had absolutely no control over the first words out of his mouth, which consequently were, “Mabel, help!”

“What's wrong?” she called back from the kitchen, clearly exasperated.

Bill laughed as Dipper screamed, “He's gonna eat me!”

:)

“Why do you insist on tormenting Dipper?”

Lying on the floor beside the sofa long after Pine tree had run up to bed, Shooting star had stayed downstairs with him. He supposed she'd been right in declaring earlier that week that her brother would have such a reaction to seeing his eyes change. Still, it had been a little too entertaining to try and hide his expression. Thinking about what Shooting star had asked, Bill didn't realize he needed a reason to pester Pine tree. He supposed he did though, and he wasn't opposed to sharing with Shooting star. Unlike her twin, she was fun. “Because it's hilarious.”

“Is that really your only reason?”

She sounded suspicious, sitting there knitting . . . whatever it was she was knitting. Shifting in his seat on the ground, he asked, “Do I need another reason?”

“Nope.” She had a look on her face, one that said she was observing something he hadn't caught onto. Well, that didn't sit well with him. Fortunately, it was only a matter of time before she spilled. That was the way she worked as he recalled. All he needed to do was fold his arms and wait. He didn't have to wait long before she nonchalantly dropped the comment, “You just seem overly attached to him is all.”

Did he really? That was news to him. Brow furrowing, he said, “That's silly.”

“You said yourself you liked us,” she reasoned.

“Ha!”

She was unfazed by his outburst. “It just seems, I don't know, like you like Dipper more.”

He felt slightly perplexed, which was something only the Pines twins could do to him really. It was one of the reasons he'd started watching them all those years ago. “Is this jealousy?”

“No,” she said. She sounded genuine, setting her work down to look at him squarely. “It's concern.”

Bill's curiosity piqued as he rolled to look at her more fully. He then asked the all-knowing Shooting star, “And just how have you come to the conclusion that I favor Pine tree?” He was dying to know. Really, he was. “I talk to you more than I do him, so it would seem I actually like you more. Plus, you're—”

“But you watch him more than you watch me.” She appeared to think about what she'd just said. “Now that I've said that, wow, it really does sound like I'm jealous.” She shook her head. “Still. What's the deal?”

“Really? That's it? Of course I watch him more. He's more likely to do something stupid and hurt himself.”

“That's not why you watch him.”

How did she know that? Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “Then why do I watch him, since you seem to know me better than I know myself?”

She held up her hand, getting ready to start listing something off. “Bill, human body language rules are as follows: when your pupils are dilated, it's either because you're heavily medicated, adjusting to a new lighting, or you're really, _really_ enjoying what you're looking at.” She pointed at him then. “Your pupils only dilate when you're looking at my brother.”

He smirked then, knowing she'd made an error. “Shooting star, human body language rules don't apply to me,” he tutted. “I'm not human.”

“You're in a human vessel right now. Don't even, Bill.”

“I can control my pupils!” He could. That was a fact. Who did she think she was talking to?

Her jaw set and he knew she'd taken that as a challenge. “Alright,” she said, proving his conclusion with, “I'm gonna give you a few scenarios. Get ready. Prove to me you can control your pupils.”

He straightened up, getting ready. “Fine. Shoot.”

She pondered for only a moment, then said, “Imagine Dipper Pines scared, running for his life.” That was easy. He'd seen that plenty of times. Her eyes narrowed, like she wasn't seeing what she'd thought she'd be seeing. “Imagine him on the ground, backing away in fear.”

“If you're trying to appeal to my sadistic side, it won't work.”

Her expression said otherwise and he clamped down on whatever it was he was feeling. Funny. He hadn't been feeling anything at all as he imagined these things. Or did he? He wasn't sure. He was not well acquainted with this sort of thing. Then she said with a determined expression in place, “Imagine him touching you without you making the first move.”

Bill glared and suddenly his imagination was running wild. Touching how? She needed to be more specific. That could mean any number of things. It could mean punching, pushing away, slapping, caressing, hugging . . . .

He shook his head. “What are you implying, Shooting star?”

She started to grin and somehow he knew he was losing. But she didn't stop there, her grin seeming sinister enough to rival his own. “Imagine him enjoying it.”

He actually cringed as the images she was forcing upon him sank in. “Stop.”

She gasped, as if she'd gotten her affirmation. “Bill Cipher, do you want my brother?”

“No.” He started to get up and get away from her. Shooting star was way too devious. He should have known better than to engage in this conversation with her. He'd watched her do this sort of thing enough in the past to know he couldn't indulge her whims.

“I'd believe you if your eyes weren't the size of the moon.”

He made like he was going to say something, instead pointing at her and reasserting, “No.”

Her expression was partially mortified and partially intrigued, and he did not feel up to dealing with that kind of pressure. And for a human, she was capable of putting on a lot of pressure. Then somehow she gave him a grin that was more intimidating than the last, one that surpassed one of the ones he had on his bad days (and this was one of his bad days, apparently) as she mock whispered, “Don't worry. I won't tell.”

“I'm going to sleep,” he declared, leaving the room. Then he added spitefully, “In your bed. You get the couch, you brat.”

“Don't stay up watching my brother sleep, you naughty Dorito. I'll know if you do.”

He ignored her, almost running up the stairs and launching himself under the covers. He didn't give much thought as to which side he was lying on until he realized he was staring at Pine tree. He stared at the curve of the kid's face for a moment, then grumbled at himself to quit it lest Pine tree's sister actually somehow obtain the ability to watch him the way he'd watched them. On some level, he was frightened of anyone who could possess his abilities. That was one of the many reasons why he, in some way, feared the enchanter. He could easily mask said fear with rage and hatred, as the enchanter had not succeeded in his goals. But he was still out there, waiting to do the single most foolish thing a human could do to him. More than ever, Bill really wanted his power back. Then he wouldn't have to worry about silly things such as the suspicions of Shooting star and the odd looks Pine tree gave him.

Bill had to admit to himself, he really did rather enjoy putting the kid on edge. He often wondered . . . .

Nope. No, he was not thinking about this. Bill Cipher, you get your shit together right now. So what if you're stuck in a body that's full of weaknesses, you're still a fucking demon and you need to act like one.

He rolled over, glaring at the wall as he continued his internal pep talk. Only the fucking Pines family. They were the only ones who could make him feel like such a fool, and he didn't remember just how aggravating that was until now. He didn't like them anymore. He just owed them, and everything he knew about them literally stemmed from his having to gain and exchange information from and with them. He also had a deal with one of them, and dammit he wasn't going to waste it. He spent a great deal amount of time thinking of how he could possibly use that deal against the boy on the other side of the room. Then he tried to ignore the fact that said boy was there in the first place.

And yet somehow, when Pine tree started shifting about and muttering in his sleep, Bill still responded with, “Run faster.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nervous about this chapter ya'll. Bill did not listen to me at all.

Dipper slid out of bed the next morning, staring at his sister's still heavily blanketed sleeping form for a moment before rubbing his face with both hands. He sat up straighter, listening out for any sign of movement downstairs. Looking out the window, the sun was still pretty low. For once, he'd managed to get up earlier than everyone else.

How convenient. He could start his day of not knowing what to do with himself early.

Standing, he stretched and inhaled, yawning as he did so. Stopping to listen again to make sure Bill didn't come running into the room at an inopportune moment, Dipper then pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side. Running his fingers under the seam of his binder with one hand, he pulled open the shirt drawer and started fumbling for a top with the other. His eyes were still rather bleary from sleep, but he could see out of the corner Mabel shifting in her bed and . . . .

That wasn't Mabel.

Holy shit, that's not Mabel.

Bill was stirring, and for a moment Dipper was completely frozen and couldn't move, couldn't breathe. His hand was buried in a clump of shirts, the other clenched against his chest. His heart raced, blood pumping in his ears and he just. Couldn't. Breathe.

As soon as Bill opened his eyes and focused on him though, he suddenly remembered what his legs and lungs were for. Well, almost. If they were for giving out under his weight and screaming, he had it right. He fell down with a clump of shirts in his hand, shouting what he thought were the words, “Don't look at me!” They came out slurred and running together, but they were words all the same.

Bill jolted upright, leaping out of bed almost immediately. “Wait, Pine tree!” He moved towards Dipper, who backed away as quickly as the demon moved forward. Bill stopped moving, but Dipper kept kicking away until his back hit his bed. Dropping the shirts, he threw his hand back on the bed and pulled his comforter down to wrap himself in it. Once wrapped up, he was paralyzed under the blanket. He started shuddering and couldn't stop, eyes wide as he felt the full weight of what had just happened settle in. Bill had seen him. Oh God, Bill had seen him. It didn't seem to sink in for either of them until he heard the demon mutter an, “Oh,” as if just realizing what he'd witnessed. Dipper whimpered, drawing himself tighter as tears threatened to slide down his cheeks. He was about to start crying when he felt someone petting his head through the blanket. “Calm down, Pine tree.”

Dipper shrank away from the palm. “Go away,” he murmured, but his voice was trembling so much he couldn't hear himself. He was waiting for Bill to laugh, say something smart to make him feel small.

Instead, he got, “Look, here's a shirt,” Bill laid something on top of Dipper's already covered head. “At least you didn't start flailing. That's good. That's progress.” This was the most soothing he'd ever heard Bill speak. It was . . . surreal. It couldn't be happening. No, not really. “Now just calm down, and finish getting dressed.”

For a moment, Dipper was brave enough to peak out from under the comforter at Bill. When he saw the demon's face, he was genuinely surprised not to find him staring maliciously back at him. No, that was the most placid he'd ever seen the demon, who seemed only interested in placating him at the moment. And Dipper responded the same way he had been most recently: “Why are you being so nice?”

Bill raised an eyebrow then, and that actually made Dipper more comfortable because it was more like the Bill he was used to to make such an expression. “Kid, put your clothes on and come downstairs and tell me what's up.”

Dipper's eyes went wide again and he felt himself starting to shake once more. “T-tell you? What—?”

“Pine tree,” Bill's hands clapped together as if he were praying (an odd gesture, considering the circumstances) then pointed his steepled hands to Dipper, “this is me invoking our deal: you are no longer allowed to lie or dodge a subject with me. Got it?”

Confused and more than a little befuddled, Dipper asked, “That's it?”

Bill rolled his eyes. “What else am I gonna do with a deal made on short notice? Not like I'm gonna be able to use you as a puppet anytime soon. Might as well keep it simple.”

“Yeah, but,” the blanket started sliding off, so he paused to pull it back over his head, “why would you waste your deal just to get me to talk to you?”

“Yeesh, you're suspicious.” Did Bill really expect anything else from him at this point? Has he even met himself? Of course Dipper was going to be leery of him. “Here, I'll give you an answer you would expect: talking to me makes you uncomfortable and I find things that make you uncomfortable funny. Also, I can't get back to doing my job as a demon if you and I don't, on some levels, communicate without bickering. The bickering's fun, kid, but seriously. Does that work for you? Do I need to stick my tongue out a few times to get my point across, or should I just start filing my teeth in front of you?”

Dipper winced a little, but there was something off about his statement that he couldn't put his finger on. Instead of addressing it, he asked, “And if I don't comply?”

“I'll shove your sister down the stairs. Repeatedly.” The answer was immediate, and more malicious than anything Bill had said in regards to his twin before. Had she done something to him of late? What other reason did he have for giving such an answer?

As Bill stood, it struck him what it was about Bill's previous statement that wasn't sitting well with Dipper. Head poking wholly out of the blanket now, he asked the demon, “What's the answer I wouldn't expect?”

Bill paused for a moment, then waved the question away with a dismissive, “Get dressed, Pine tree.” Then Dipper was alone.

Dipper was still red in the face from what had happened, heart still racing as he looked down at the shirt Bill had placed on his head previously. He stared for a while, trying to calm down enough to actually put the shirt on and get up. Moving at all was a hard concept to tackle, let alone getting up and going downstairs. He wanted to berate himself for being such an idiot, but he couldn't think well enough to even form anything coherent. He was still so stuck on the notion that Bill had seen him without a shirt on and hadn't made fun of him. If anything, he'd reacted . . . well. That scared him. It felt like a trap. At this point, everything felt like a trap. The whole shack had turned into a trap upon Bill's arrival. But now Bill knew, and Dipper would have to face that eventually. With that in mind, he slowly managed to get himself together enough to pull the shirt over his head and pull on a pair of jeans before stumbling down the stairs. He hesitated just before turning into the living room, where he somehow knew Bill was waiting. 

He stopped short when Mabel stepped out and saw him. “Hey!” she said before pushing past him to head upstairs. “I'll be going to visit Candy and Grenda for a bit. Think you'll be okay for a while.”

Dipper tensed. No. No he was definitely not going to be okay. “I . . . think so.”

She paused in the hallway, and he struggled not to look as tense as he felt. “Are you okay?”

No. “Yeah. I'm fine.” He could really use her help right now, but she looked so happy to be going out.

“Okay!” He knew he couldn't hold her back without feeling guilty about it when she beamed and ran up the stairs to change.

Turning back toward the living room, he slunk in like he wasn't going to be noticed. He knew he was being ridiculous because it was obvious Bill was watching him the whole time he was walking in. Sinking down into the opposite end of the couch, he felt his face heating up all over again. He felt like he was going to be sick, and he honestly couldn't find the words to start the conversation. Without looking at the demon, Dipper's hands gripped the material around his knees and all he really wanted to do was run but he couldn't. He just continued getting smaller, his body tensing to the point it was a wonder he hadn't snapped yet. He felt a hint of sweat on his temple just before he was able to stammer, “What . . . do you want to know?”

Bill sighed, and Dipper worked hard not to flinch at the volume of the noise. Everything sounded so much louder when he was this nervous. “Just start talking. From what it seems like, this all feels like it's gonna be one human concept I don't agree with after another.”

Dipper's hands clasped in his lap as he sat back, somehow stiffening more. If that statement had been an attempt at prompting him, it had failed. “I don't . . . I don't really know where to start.”

“Start by using your words. That's what they tell you to do nowadays, right? Use your words?”

A hint of frustration bubbled within Dipper as he snapped, “I've never come out to anyone before, okay? Gimme . . . gimme a break.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill's head tilt. “Come out?”

Without thinking, Dipper looked at Bill then. Of all the expressions, he'd never expected to see confusion on the demon's face. “Of the closet?” His expression just grew more and more confounded. “You don't know what that means?”

“I know a lot of things, Pine tree, but I have never figured out the meaning of that phrase.”

That, at least, was not hard to explain. “It means telling someone about your gender or sexuality or something equally personal. People generally keep those things secret.”

“Why?”

How was he so ignorant of this subject? Dipper hadn't known it was possible for Bill to be ignorant of anything aside from personal space. Staring at the demon, whose head rested on his hand as he stared confusedly back at Dipper, he answered, “It's just safer that way.”

Bill continued to look baffled, but moved onto his next question anyway. “Who else knows?”

Dipper's hands squeezed one another hard and sweat poured from his temple as he said, “My parents. Mabel. Grunkle Stan.” There were others who'd found out back at home, but he preferred not to think about them. They hadn't exactly taken it well, which was why he'd worked so hard to keep the people of Gravity Falls from finding out.

“How'd you 'come out' to them?” He said the words like he still didn't exactly understand what they meant, but was trying to push the conversation along.

With a sigh, Dipper explained with a shrug, “Mabel just knew. She told them for me.”

“How exactly did they take it?”

That was hard for Dipper to answer. “Overall, well. My parents still,” he pursed his lips together, unsure of how to phrase it, “wish it were a phase.”

“So . . . this isn't a normal occurrence?”

“Huh?”

“Just trying to understand why it's such a hard subject to discuss. I mean, you're acting like it's supposed to be a secret and all so I can only assume—”

“You're familiar with the concept of gender, right?” Dipper asked.

Bill shrugged. “Vaguely.”

This just got weirder. He wasn't sure he could do this. Scratching the back of his head Dipper picked and chose his next words carefully, trying to be as clear as possible. He used his hands to gesticulate as he went along, struggling not to stutter out, “According to the majority . . . it's not normal to identify as something other than what you're born as.”

“And . . . you were not born male.” Dipper looked away before he nodded. “And people would think you're weird for identifying as male?”

“They don't just think you're weird for it, Bill. There are people who would kill you for it. And get away with it.”

All befuddlement fled Bill's face as he scoffed and dropped his hand. He glared at the wall, mumbling something inaudible. Dipper went back to being just as tense as he'd been at the start, unsure what Bill was babbling until he caught the words, “Human's will kill each other over anything,” and continued grumbling. When he turned back to Dipper, Dipper flinched as he spat, “You realize how stupid that sounds, right?”

“Uh . . .,” he had no idea how to respond. How should he respond?

“That implies that one identification is significantly better than another, and therefore if you don't fit into your designated group you're somehow lesser! What the hell is wrong with human beings?!” Dipper shrugged as he started to say something, but Bill continued ranting, “I get natural selection and all, but there is literally no biological, neurological, physical, _whatever_ reason to favor one gender over another, or one sex over another. Are those considered two different things or are they the same?”

“Different,” was all Dipper could mutter.

Then Bill was ranting again, “And to think that homo sapiens consider themselves evolved. It's dumb that you even _need_ words to describe these sort of situations. How many ways can humans find to separate each other into groups? It's not like separation into groups is productive in any way. There's literally no point other than to make each other feel uncomfortable. I bet they try to say that switching genders isn't natural—”

“Yes, actua—”

“What the fuck?!” Dipper jumped at the now much louder outburst. “Are you serious? Have they even looked at the world around them? This is the second dumbest thing next to killing each other over gods and gold. I spoke to some of the gods. They're really not fucking impressed.” He stopped. His attitude changed completely as he then babbled, “Actually, gold is still important. You should be stocking up on that—”

“Did you just . . . ?” Dipper interrupted, but wasn't sure exactly what to call what Bill had just said. “So you . . . don't care about this at all?”

“Pfft, _I_ don't! The fact that humans do is absolutely the most idiotic thing I've heard today. I'm a fan of chaos, kid, but there are certain things that are just so insignificant to me I can't even fathom arguing about—”

“Bye guys, behave yourselves!” Mabel cried as she ran past the living room without stopping, Waddles squealing under her arm.

Momentarily distracted by Mabel's leave, they both fell silent. Dipper didn't answer anything Bill had shared. He just stared back at the demon. “I'm really confused about you right now.”

“What's so confusing?”

Dipper blinked several times, realizing that throughout the rant he'd been slowly turning towards Bill to the point that he was now mostly on the couch with only one leg drooping down. His head was foggy, and he honestly couldn't get the necessary sentences that would explain what he was feeling and thinking together enough to say them. Shaking his head with his mouth agape, he said, “Everything. You literally go out of your way to make people feel weird, and yet something like this makes you . . . utterly mad.”

“Because it's stupid! Pine tree, demons mess with people. It's our job. We tempt people in ways they didn't realize they could be tempted because it's our nature. It's how we make a living, so to speak. Humans have this very, very annoying habit of going against their nature and using nature as an excuse to do it. It's the most pointless set of rules any group of creatures in existence can possess. It is literally hindering your progress as a species.” 

Dipper still couldn't believe what had just transpired here. He wasn't sure how to respond, other than to ask, “So . . . you don't care? That I'm trans?”

Bill gave him a withered look before returning to staring at the wall. “Pine tree, the fact that you have to have a word to describe what it is you're going through isn't going to make me dislike you, it's going to make me feel sorry for you. I don't like feeling sorry for people, and generally people don't like it when people feel sorry for them either. So we're just gonna say that my opinion of you hasn't changed in the slightest as a result of this eye opening experience. Honestly, I wish I hadn't had to hear just how much dumber humans can get.” He had no idea how to respond to this. He sat frozen, dumbfounded. Where the hell did he even take this conversation from here? Then Bill turned back to him and asked, “Is this why you're so touchy and such a prude all the time?”

The jump from topics shocked Dipper back into the present, and he answered almost normally, “Part of it. That's part of the reason.”

“Okay!” Dipper thought for a moment that he should have thought better about his answer, but it was too late to recant it as Bill suddenly turned about and dropped onto his back with his head landing on Dipper's lap. Dipper continued to sit stiffly, nervous to move and nervous to say anything. As if sensing this, Bill started, “Let me tell you about the time I was a succubus.”

He thought he'd met his shock quota for the day. He was wrong. “Wait, what?!”

“Yeah, just to prove a point about how pathetic this whole human concept of gender feels to me, let me put things into perspective. Demons don't have a set gender. We take on whatever works given the situation. It just so happens a great deal of humans are more intimidated by males with power, so you often see demons being characterized as being male. That's actually a stereotype. It all really depends on the deal you're trying to make, really. Sometimes the deal requires a bit of force, sometimes it requires a bit of seduction. Most humans respond better to seduction when they're faced with someone they can't help but be attracted to. Many times, for men and women alike actually, that person's a female. Basically, demons can mix and match their appearance in whatever way they want in order to appeal to the individual. Make sense?” Dipper nodded, but was otherwise unsure of how to respond. “So one time I was a succubus—”

“Can you,” he hesitated, nervous to ask, “not go into detail with what that was like?”

Bill grinned, and for once the sharp expression didn't make him feel embarrassed because it was more familiar to him than this chatty version of the demon who had basically just offended him as a human and defended him as an individual (how that even worked, Dipper didn't know) in the course of five minutes. “For a moment I was worried you didn't know what a succubus was, Pine tree.”

He did. He definitely did. The thought was enough to make him cringe. Running a hand through his hair, he asked, “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“For now.”

“And you won't tell anyone?”

Bill sighed. “I like to torment you, but I'm not about to get you killed over something like that. That's not amusing in the slightest, and I could think of more creative ways.”

After a few seconds, Dipper realized that was the closest to a 'no I won't tell' he was going to get out of the demon. It took several minutes of sitting there, however, for the discussion he'd just had to fully sink in. Meanwhile, it only took Bill a few minutes to drift off into a nap while still lying on Dipper. Dipper didn't think to question whether or not the demon had had enough sleep the night before. Honestly, he was thinking about Mabel. He wasn't really anticipating her getting home to tell her what had happened, but he certainly needed someone to talk to after this gigantic revelation. 

Despite all of his reservations, he found himself actually somewhat okay with Bill knowing. His reaction hadn't been at all what he thought it would be. He hadn't expected him to be okay with it let alone to pseudo-defend him. All in all, the discussion had left him really, really confused about how he should feel towards the demon. Much of what Bill had done lately had seriously confused him. The fact that he was actually capable of expressing concern or . . . caring, for lack of a better term . . . it was more frightening than reassuring. Dipper didn't know what to do with a demon who actually felt things.

Dipper didn't know what to think about anything anymore, really.

:)

Mabel came home to find her brother asleep on the couch with Bill, also asleep, with his head in Dipper's lap. She wondered if they'd moved at all since she'd left, but at the same time squinted and wanted to know what had changed between them. If anything had changed, that is.

Ultimately, she decided not to pass up on the opportunity to take a picture and keep it. It might be useful in case she ever needed to blackmail one of them, as Dipper was always incredibly embarrassed at all things that even seemed intimate and Bill seemed just as embarrassed at having feelings for Dipper. She knew he must. Why else would he have reacted the way he did the day before when she pointed out his behavior?


	7. Chapter 7

When Dipper woke up, he was still on the couch and Bill's head was still on his lap. Somehow he managed to extract himself without waking the demon, but didn't leave before covering him up with a spare blanket. It was a small gesture, but it was more than Dipper had done for him the whole of his stay here. He caught himself staring down at the demon a little while longer and it struck him again just how confused he was now about him. Bill's behavior just seemed so . . . different. Not like him. Off. Dipper was losing ways to describe it. Rubbing his head, he left Bill in the living room and ventured upstairs. He did not, however, go back to sleep. He spent most of the night trying to figure out what was going on in his life anymore.

And when he went down to the kitchen the next morning he encountered an overly cheerful, very smug looking Mabel. “So are you and Bill dating?” she lilted out the last word like she knew the answer already.

Unfortunately for her, she was wrong. Taken aback by the news, he guessed she must have seen him on the couch the day before. Rolling his eyes, he answered, “No. He just invades my personal space. That's not news.”

“I saw the two of you yesterday.” Dipper blushed at the mention as she confirmed his suspicion, glad that Bill was taking a shower and couldn't join in on the teasing. If he would. Dipper wasn't sure anymore. “What were you doing while I was away?”

“He figured it out, Mabel,” Dipper said. Her brow creased before her eyes suddenly went wide. “I . . . he saw me getting dressed, and I had to tell him the truth.”

In mere seconds she went from teasing him about the demon to jumping up and grabbing him by the shoulders, acting like inspecting his physical appearance was going to tell her what he was feeling emotionally. “Oh my God!” she started. “Are you okay? How did you handle that? Did he ask a lot of questions—?”

“Mabel, chill—”

“Do I need to punch him out? Should I get Grunkle Stan?”

“Mabel—”

“Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it bro bro—”

“Stop,” the word slurred out as he waved his arms for her to be quiet and let him speak. When she finally shut her mouth, he took a deep breath and said, “He took it well. I'm a little . . . shocked, really. I don't know how to deal with someone taking that well.” Dipper didn't know how to deal with Bill, actually. Everything the demon had been doing seemed so off lately, and he was starting to not believe him when he said he just did it because he owed the Pines twins for their help.

“Of course he took it well. He likes you.”

“What?” Dipper asked, but when he looked up Mabel was covering her mouth like she'd said too much. Her words didn't sink in at first. “He . . . he what?”

“I was . . . not supposed to say that,” she admitted through her hands. It was rare for her to be flushed over something other than her own crushes, but she was certainly growing redder and redder over this.

Dipper still didn't understand. “He,” he paused, throat suddenly dry, “likes me? Like—?”

Mabel suddenly covered his mouth with her hands, and that's when it finally sank in. His eyes went wide as he stared completely flustered at his sister. “I told him I wouldn't tell. I didn't actually mean to tell.”

He smacked her hands away. “He told you he liked me?!” His voice was hushed but intense. He felt like yet another part of his world was about to get turned topsy turvy. What was going on here? Did he have to get all the strange or bad (did this count as bad) news all at once?

She twisted her hair with her fingers. “No, he . . . I guessed, and he denied it, but the evidence is totally there.” she quickly covered up what she'd started to say.

Dipper squinted. “What evidence? What are you talking about?”

“You can't tell me you haven't noticed how much he likes to mess with you, right?”

“Messing with someone is not evidence that they like you, Mabel.”

“It is in this case.”

“No! No it really isn't! He's a demon. He messes with people when he wants something—”

“And what exactly does he want from you, Dipper?” He held up a finger, only to realize he didn't have an answer. Dropping his hand, he realized again that he did: honesty. Bill wanted him to be truthful with him. He'd invoked the deal just to get him to talk to the demon about stuff. He couldn't tell Mabel that, though. That would only validate her suspicions, which still seemed wholly unfounded to him. His lack of answer didn't seem to give her much of a different conclusion, though. “I'm just saying he might, okay?”

“That's really unlikely, Mabel,” Dipper still declared.

“Is it really? I don't seem to recall him getting excited over physical contact with anyone else.”

“He does not get excited—”

“Yes he does.” She folded her arms, and he knew he wasn't going to argue his way out of this. Even so, she declared, “He does,” a second time just to secure her ruling.

He clapped a palm to his face, glaring at his twin with one eye. Then he splayed out his hands and said, “Fine. We'll pose the theory—”

“Fact.”

“Theory,” Dipper growled before forcing his voice back to normal, “that he does. What then? I can't have a normal relationship, Mabel.”

“You know, that's one thing I could never get through your head: there's no such thing as a normal relationship.”

Dipper could have choked her. “I was talking about the fact that he's a demon and I'm a human, not about the fact that I'm literally not attracted to anyone in that way. Although that's still a good goddamn point to bring up, don't you think?”

“Sexual attraction isn't the same as romantic attraction. You act like you can't have romantic feelings sometimes when you and I both know that's a lie. Remember Wendy—?”

“You have entirely missed the point of what I just said—”

“Besides, I never mentioned sex. You brought that up. What exactly did _you_ have in mind there, bro bro?”

“Mabel!” His fists were shaking by now. He hated when she did this. He realized she was trying to help on some level, but in some ways it just left him feeling inadequate on just about every front. He tried to quiet down and speak coolly before he really did start strangling her. Flattening out his palms again, he uttered, “It's not happening. Ever.”

“I'm not saying it should or shouldn't. I'm just pointing out—”

“I know what you're pointing out,” and honestly he wished she hadn't, “but things are weird enough between us as it is. We don't need this either.”

“Good call.” Suddenly Grunkle Stan appeared, dropping a large, heavy, black binder on the table. It landed with a loud thunk as he continued, “Now I'm gonna pretend I didn't just hear that conversation. Sit your butts down and start reading.”

Dipper opened the book, flipping through the collected pages. “Is this—?”

“Every spell and incantation I know,” Grunkle Stan answered. “I'm gonna redo the wards on the shack. Since the demon's already in here, I may as well remove those spells and prep for a different kind of intruder. Meanwhile, the two of you are gonna learn basic defensive magic. Got it?”

Mabel came over to look at what Dipper was looking at. “I don't know if—”

“No 'I don't know's, kiddo. You sit down and learn it. The stunt the lot of you pulled the other day could have gotten you killed. You should never go into a situation without some preparation, and this,” he jabbed a finger at the binder, “should prepare you enough to distract the guy before running like hell.” Dipper didn't complain. He appreciated the distraction Grunkle Stan had provided from what was happening elsewhere in Dipper's life. “I put a few protection spells against demons too.”

“Will they actually work on Bill?” Mabel asked.

“The ones I found, yes. Sounds like a good idea if your intuition is at all true.” Grunkle Stan addressed Dipper. “Still good thinking, Dip. Don't trust him. He's bad news.”

“I don't know. Have the two of you been paying attention to him lately?”

“He's a demon! It's only a matter of time before he starts bargaining for your souls or something. It's what he does, end of discussion.” He made a grand gesture encompassing both of them, “Don't get attached. He is not a pet. We're still not keeping him.” With that, he left the kitchen.

“Hmph!” Mabel flopped down into a chair as Dipper settled in and started studying right away. “You two need to lighten up.”

“No,” was Dipper's only response as they set to work.

Later Dipper would break out an empty notebook and write down the words to certain incantations over and over until he felt he'd memorized them. This left Mabel with the binder and Bill with the television remote as he sat on the floor letting out small huffs and comments about how bored he was. Dipper succeeded in not paying attention to either of them as he drilled the words of each spell into his head. His focus went unbroken until someone (Bill) leaned against his legs and pulled him out of whatever trance he'd been in while studying. Suddenly his mind ceased to function and his pencil stopped on the paper as Mabel's words slowly sank in. The thought formed in his mind about as quickly as Bill's warmth seeped into his legs.

In that moment, he could feel Mabel's gaze on him. He could feel the 'I told you so' without even looking at her, and it made him slam his notebook shut and slide his legs out from under Bill. “Where you going?” the demon asked. “Get back here. You're my pillow.”

That wasn't helping. That wasn't helping the situation at all. “I've gotta . . .,” bullshit an excuse Dipper, you can do this, “I've gotta . . . get another notebook.”

“You haven't finished the one you've got, bro bro.” 

Fuck you Mabel, he wanted to say. Fortunately he did not. He didn't even look at her. “It's for something different. I'll check in on the binder later.” With that, he left the room.

Five minutes later he was face down in his bed with a pillow against his face yelling about how stupid all of this was. He had half a mind to go back downstairs and scream at Bill to use Mabel as a pillow instead, to push him away and prove to her that she had assumed wrong and that the demon didn't like him more or something. Then he lost his nerve, afraid that would give away the fact that he knew the demon liked him. He shook his head again. No. Bill did not like him. That made no sense. Nothing made sense.

Dipper rolled onto his side, glaring at the wall as he tried not to think of the positives of having Bill around. Really, there were none. Other than he'd finally told someone he was trans. He'd told someone and they hadn't freaked out or thrown a fit about it. They hadn't told him it was just a phase and they hadn't told him he should be locked up. He curled up at the words that had been thrown at him previously. He felt like he should be over such things by now, but they still stung just like it had happened yesterday. And to have someone not care at all that he was what he was . . . no. That wasn't the right phrasing. Bill did care. In fact, he cared a lot judging by how violently he reacted to the world's general response to something like that. Instead of making Dipper feel better now that he thought about it, it actually made him self-conscious and sad to think that he'd had to go to a demon in order to gain some acceptance. What the hell was that supposed to say about people, or him for that matter? 

He sat back up, moving back to working on his notebook. The words he was writing stopped having meaning rather quickly and he had to stop because he was starting to make mistakes. Tossing it aside, he considered actually getting a new notebook like he said he would and doodling in it. But if Dipper knew himself, he knew what those doodles would consist of and he just couldn't allow himself to entertain such foolish, idiotic thoughts.

Pulling the covers over his head, he proceeded to shut down all of his thoughts in favor of trying to get some rest. Not that he needed it. He just really needed to stop thinking for a while, and sleep was the only way he knew how to do that.

:)

“Don't do what I think you're gonna do.”

Mabel looked up from petting Waddles, narrowing her eyes on her great uncle. “What do you mean?”

Grunkle Stan was reading an issue of one of his weird magazines about gold as he responded flatly, “Don't encourage the two of them together. I already don't like the way the isosceles jackass watches your brother. I don't want Dipper, or you for that matter, getting the wrong idea.”

She felt something click in her brain. “You've noticed it too?”

“Of course I did. This is my house!” He turned a page. “And there you go, thinking it's something cute and innocent.”

Oh, Mabel knew it wasn't innocent. Not on Bill's part, at least. She wasn't deluded in the slightest there. “I don't know, Grunkle Stan—”

“Listen up,” he closed his magazine and stared directly at her, “that demon will hurt your brother. He _has_ hurt your brother in the past. Do you want Dipper to get hurt?” Mabel shook her head. “Alright then. Your brother knows what he can take, and I think he knows this is something he can't. I'm in favor of toughening the kid up, but this is one thing no amount of strength can guard. Got it?”

“I just don't think—”

“Got it?” he repeated with a little more force.

She sighed. “Yeah.”

He returned to what he was doing then. After a moment, he uttered, “The two of you need to be more careful about a lot of things.”

She knew that. Their whole lives had been centered around being careful. They rehearsed everything they said, did, thought, all just so they could maintain an appearance. Dipper protected Mabel in a lot of ways, and she did her best to return the favor. But something told her that even with her not pushing the two together, things were going to unfold that way no matter what. It wasn't like she didn't realize that Bill was dangerous; she'd seen what he could do firsthand. However she knew what a predator looked like when it was watching its prey, and Bill did not have that look despite what Grunkle Stan and Dipper claimed. He was a demon, though. Demons could adopt any appearance or face they liked if they needed to.

Sighing again, she was no longer sure. Therefore, she elected to keep quiet about it and just try to be there when things didn't go according to plan.

:)

“I recognize that spell.”

Pine tree almost succeeded in not jumping out of his skin as he realized Bill was reading what he was writing over his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he said, “Yeah. It's supposed to repel you from me if you start doing anything stupid.”

“Newsflash, kid. Ya'll are the dumb ones. Stanford has it out for me. Just admit it.”

The kid shrugged. That was certainly a possibility, as every time Bill had glimpsed Stanford the man had been glaring suspiciously at him. Rolling his eyes, he watched as Pine tree continued writing even as Bill leaned over him and watched what he was doing. The more he scribbled, the more Bill continued to recognize what Stan was teaching them. Fascinated, he rested his hands on either side of Pine tree as he continued watching and relearning. The pencil faltered, the kid pausing to look at the demon's arms now framing him. “Bill, can you not?”

“Not what?” 

“Just, stop leaning over me? There are chairs right here. You can sit down.”

“How else am I gonna get a clear view of what you're writing? Think realistically, kid.”

Pine tree shook his head, continuing to write though his hands were now shaking. Bill watched the hesitant scribbles before his gaze broke from the notebook to look at Pine tree. For the first time he noticed just how close to him he was getting. That wouldn't have bothered him had Shooting star's scenarios not started playing back to him in his mind. His mind drifted dangerously into that territory, and he knew just how bad of an idea that was. He shook his head, trying to clear his head and return to watching the kid's movements. They were stronger now, less uncertain and more determined than before. Unfortunately Bill went from watching what he was writing to watching his hand. The scenarios seeped back into his thoughts full force.

Dipper scared, running for his life . . . .

Dipper on the ground, backing away in fear . . . .

Dipper touching him without him making the first move . . . .

Dipper enjoying it . . . .

“Jesus Christ!” Dipper cried, knocking Bill out of his train of thought. The kid, who had turned to look at him, snapped his head forward and started gathering his stuff in his arms not so subtly. “Your eyes are doing that thing again!”

Fuck. His mind quickly shifted to beating itself up as Dipper pushed back his chair, forcing Bill to back up in the process, and shoved past and away from him. In his mind (in his sick, twisted, demonic mind) that registered as Pine tree running away scared ( _for his life_ his head automatically finished the sentence for him).

Now, at this point, Bill should have just left him alone. He should have sat down and thought of what he was supposed to be doing rather than what he wanted to be doing (that was not an option and was never going to be). Instead, he gave chase and that only made the situation worse for both of them. “Why does that bother you so much?” he asked. Stupid question, he thought. That was a really stupid question, Bill Cipher, and you know it.

“Because it looks weird, okay?” he spat as he turned around to face him and yet kept the same pace backing up. This was a cosmic joke. It just had to be. It didn't even matter that Pine tree wasn't on the ground, he was still _backing away in fear_. “I don't like it!”

Something snapped in the back of Bill's mind. “Are you dodging my question, Pine tree?” Dipper froze long enough for Bill to catch up with him. Without putting much thought into it (Bill had to face it, he was barely thinking at all at this point), he backed Dipper up against a wall and framed his head with his arms. Pine tree stiffened, eyes wide and staring unblinkingly up at him. Funny . . . it didn't occur to Bill how much taller than the kid he was until now. “You're not supposed to be avoiding answering me anymore, you realize?”

“Bill, I . . .,” Dipper's mouth suddenly sealed shut as an audible whine sounded in the back of his throat. His arms tightened around his notebooks and such, face flushing as he uttered, “I really don't—”

“Please,” Bill suddenly growled, “by all means violate our deal.” Please give me a reason to throw your sister down the stairs for pointing these fucking feelings out to me, was more along the lines of what Bill was thinking.

Pine tree's face grew redder and redder and suddenly Bill was staring at his throat, watching the way he breathed and the way his pulse throbbed. Fascinating. Human bodies could be so fascinating. Suddenly he had an image in his head he couldn't shake, one of him leaning down and dragging his teeth against the kid's neck while Dipper held his head in place and just _touching him_. “Bill?” he vaguely heard Pine tree whimpering. His gaze was still focused on the kid's neck, mind still lingering on the image of Pine tree touching him and _enjoying it_. “Bill, please,” Dipper stammered, finally pulling Bill's head from the fantasy, “s-stop looking at me like that!”

Bill focused on Pine tree's face at last, and he couldn't tell just what his eyes were doing at the moment. He could tell, however, that whatever they were doing they were making the kid uncomfortable. “Like what?” he asked more out of reflex than wanting an answer.

All of a sudden Dipper thrust forward, shoving Bill back hard enough with his body alone that he hit the wall behind him. “Because it looks like you wanna fry me up and serve me on a platter, that's why!” Then he was marching upstairs, leaving Bill in the hallway.

It took him all of five seconds to want to punch himself in the face as he realized just what had happened. “Goddammit!” he snarled, grabbing his head with both hands. Fucking why was this happening to him?

 _Bill Cipher, do you want my brother?_ Shooting star's question burned.

“No!” he answered aloud.

_I'd believe you if your eyes weren't the size of the moon._

“Yeah, me too!” he griped, almost punching a wall as he left for the kitchen again. Let's see what sharp objects he could find to play with.

:)

Dipper slammed the door behind him, making both Mabel and Waddles jump and squeal as he dropped to the floor in front of the door. Notebooks and pencil scattering on the floor, he brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. “Dipper, what happened?” Mabel immediately asked, getting up to come console her brother. He felt her sit down beside him, but she didn't touch him otherwise. When he didn't give her an answer, she started, “What's wr—?”

“I've never felt so embarrassed in my life,” he admitted, suddenly shaking. At first, he didn't even really know what he was more upset about: the fact that Mabel might have been right or the fact that he could possibly want her to be right. The former seemed more likely, because if Bill looked at him the way he'd just done all the time then there was no way Dipper was ever going to be comfortable with him. Then again there was the latter, the subject he didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole because he didn't think he could reciprocate the feelings it seemed like Bill had for him. No, he didn't think. He knew. He knew he couldn't do it and that was killing him more than he could ever admit.

Mabel must have understood where his thoughts were. At the very least, she was close to having a picture. “Did Bill—?”

“He didn't do anything!” he cut her off again. He rested his forehead on his kneecaps. “Nothing he doesn't already normally do.” He had to admit, it was very much like Bill to want to make Dipper feel uncomfortable. This just felt . . . different. He didn't feel unsafe in the same way he had before. No, this felt stranger and he had no idea how to even begin to address it. “I hate his fucking eyes,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

“I know,” Mabel whispered.

“It was easier when we just hated each other and that was it!”

Mabel sighed. “I'm not sure the two of you ever really _hated_ each other.”

Dipper shook his head without lifting it off his knees. “I know.” He'd felt fear. He'd felt anger. He'd felt mistrust and a myriad of other things. He wasn't sure hate was among them. 

But dear God, it would be so much easier if he did hate the demon. Then he wouldn't be feeling this way.


	8. Chapter 8

Once memorized, spells were easily mastered. For Mabel, at least. Dipper was having a harder time. “You're thinking entirely too much about it,” Grunkle Stan reprimanded. “If you think too hard, it won't work.” That was Dipper's problem in general. He thought too much. He planned too much. He planned out scenarios day in and day out without any guarantee that they would actually happen. He'd even planned out what he'd say to Bill if he ever started messing with him again.

But he hadn't. In fact, it appeared that they were actively avoiding one another. At first, Dipper was glad of that. Then as the silence droned on, the lack of communication felt more and more . . . disconcerting. He thought that was a good word. Perhaps it was because Dipper didn't know what to expect of the demon when he pondered so much and was quiet all of the time.

As Dipper continued to utterly fail at learning magic and Mabel soared on the subject, Mabel offered, “Look, you know every spell in the book, right?” Dipper nodded. “Then if we stick together you can just hand me the dets and I'll do the hard part.”

“Is that really a good idea? What if we get separated?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I'll know enough to fend for myself and find you again.”

“Yes, but how I fend for _my_ self in the meantime?”

“You've got at least one spell, right?” 

Dipper groaned, not giving her a full answer. He did, but it was pitiful. “A stunning spell.”

“Use that, then run.”

Running he was good at. But judging by how poorly he was doing, he was going to get killed. So Grunkle Stan pulled him aside and handed him one of the journals. “I've dogeared the pages of the things you should find. Bring 'em back and I'll show you how to weaponize.”

Dipper nodded, flipping through the pages and looking over the ingredients Grunkle Stan had selected. Most he recognized and knew exactly where to find them. The others . . . he would need to go hunting. Gathering some plastic containers, jars, and ziplock bags (among a few other things he might need while out), he was actually glad to get out of the shack for a good long while. Mabel sat at the table, watching him as he prepared what he needed to. “Are you sure you should be going out their alone?” she asked.

“I've been through those woods countless times. I wouldn't worry if I were you.” He continued packing his backpack, undeterred.

“But what if the enchanter's actually out there waiting to get one of us alone?” He scoffed, which only made her more concerned. “If he is, you're completely defenseless!”

“No I'm not,” he pointed out, gesturing to the journal as he did so. “Besides, the more skilled magician should probably stick with the demon we're supposed to make sure doesn't get captured, right?” Mabel tilted her head at the sentence that just passed Dipper's lips. Dipper squinted. “What?”

“You said to make sure he doesn't get captured.”

“So?”

“As opposed to just getting rid of him.”

There was a moment where Dipper had to think about what she was suggesting. Then he let out an exasperated sigh and hoisted the bag over his shoulder. “You're reading too much into it.” Headed for the door, he gave one final, “I'll be back soon,” before exiting the shack and heading into the woods.

:)

Unbeknownst to Dipper, Mabel hadn't spoken to Bill in a while either. This was primarily because he started mumbling about something every time she approached him. One time she actually caught the tail end of his grumbles, the words, “Stupid feelings,” reaching her ears just before she decided to leave him alone.

Since her brother was out of the house at the moment, she decided to sit Bill down about his advances on Dipper if for no other reason than to stop the awkward silence among them. She hadn't exactly thought of what she was going to say, only that she needed to get this done because her brother won't. As long as Dipper and Bill weren't speaking, they would continue to not speak for all of eternity from what she could tell. From what she'd gathered of Bill's ramblings to himself, she was the last person he wanted to talk to as well.

Searching the house, she soon discovered that Bill was nowhere to be found. Running into the business end of the shack (ignoring her great uncle's work altogether), she gave him no time to ask before she blurted out, “Have you seen Bill?”

“Nobody told me it was my day to watch him,” was all Grunkle Stan had to say.

Suddenly she knew exactly where Bill was. “Oh no,” she groaned, covering her face with both hands.

“Do I wanna know?” She shook her head. He huffed. “Go find the spell I gave you to track him.”

She obeyed. As she went in search for the binder, she pulled out her cell phone to dial Dipper's number only to find he'd left his phone on his bed. He'd done that on purpose and she just knew it. Rolling her eyes, she located the binder and moved back downstairs and outside. She started thumbing through it immediately. Passing over several pages, she stopped on one that she didn't think she'd memorized. A compulsion spell, huh? That might come in handy at some point. Pulling a pen from her hair bun, she wrote the words down on her arm quickly. She then proceeded to search for the page she'd originally set out to find while listening out for any strange noises. She figured she'd recognize Dipper's screams if she didn't find the spell fast enough.

:)

Dipper unscrewed the lid of one of his jars as he straddled a tree branch. Using a butter knife, he scraped some strange kind of moss into the container before replacing the lid and stuffing it into his sack. He'd gathered less than half of the ingredients thus far, but he was still making plenty of progress. Climbing back down the tree as quickly and safely as he could, Dipper proceeded onward as he flipped through the journal to refresh his memory on what all he was looking for.

He found and collected a few more materials before he started hearing noises he recognized. Sounds like twigs snapping, quiet footsteps, the movement of leaves all dragged his attention away from the journal and his mission. Dipper slowed down, listening more intently to make sure he wasn't just hearing himself move through the woods. When he confirmed that it was in fact someone else, he also confirmed that it was a person following him and not an animal. The main reason he knew that was the sound of the footfalls. If not a person, it was certainly something that walked on two legs. He couldn't hear any breathing, so he couldn't use that as another identifier.

Trying not to panic, he pulled his bag to the front and sifted through what he had already collected. Recalling the properties of one ingredient in particular, he pulled the plastic container in which it was housed out and opened the lid. Turning about and holding the container aloft, he called out, “Come out, and I won't throw this.” There was a pause, and suddenly Dipper wondered if he'd somehow imagined it all. That only made his heart hammer more. Clearing his throat, he explained, “This fungus will explode if struck hard enough. Don't make me use it.” It was the most volatile thing he had on him at the moment, so he was relying heavily on it to protect him from his stalker.

Said stalker stepped out in the open and Dipper's unease turned into annoyance. Bill folded his arms and responded flatly, “I don't know. Can you even throw that hard?”

“Wanna find out?” he came back at him a lot quicker than he thought he would. Bill raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“Just making sure you don't injure yourself out here.”

Dipper's glare intensified. Putting the container back together, he shoved it in his sack before declaring, “I don't need any help.” He turned away. “Besides, you shouldn't be out here.”

“Neither should you. Not alone at least.”

He'd never been presented with an opportunity to shout the things he'd rehearsed in his head over and over again. Not until now. On some level he'd always wanted to be able to do this simply because it meant his overthinking some things actually did pay off. Then again, as soon as he spun about to lay it on Bill Cipher, nothing went according to plan. He just started rambling, “I don't know what your deal is, and frankly I don't wanna know. It's bad enough that I have Mabel telling me all kinds of weird things that I don't wanna hear, so do me a favor. Here's what you can do to help,” he got ready to list things off on his fingers. He fought the urge to chew his lip, knowing it would only cause him to stall. “Stay away from me. Stop messing around with me. Stop touching me,” he put a lot of emphasis on that sentence. “Stop using the whole 'I owe you' thing as an excuse, I don't fucking believe it. Keep your mouth shut about anything I have ever told you. You know what, don't even look at me.” He threw his hands up. “Just leave me the hell alone.”

Bill blinked, scratching his chin before squinting at him. Just when Dipper thought maybe some of what he'd said had gone through the demon's head, Bill pointed at him and asked, “All this because you don't like the way I look at you?”

Dipper started flailing just before his fingers and palms curled like he was ready to strangle the demon. “That's only part of it!” Turning away and trying to continue on his path, Dipper's voice raised an octave as he shouted, “Stop pretending to care about me!”

“Oh, so it's pretending now?” Bill was still following him. 

Instead of turning around and backing away, Dipper spun on his heel and stalked back toward Bill aggressively instead. Taken aback by the change, Bill was the one backing up this time. “Okay, let's say you're not pretending. Let's say Mabel's right and you do like me.”

“What?!” Bill cried, eyes going wider than Dipper had ever seen.

But Dipper wasn't stopping. He continued advancing as he spat, “Yeah I know! Ridiculous concept! I said so too. But the fact of the matter is,” he stopped, Bill stopping a few paces in front of him, “I can't like you. I really, really can't.”

“Just sugarcoat it for me, why don't you?” Bill snarled as he stepped forward to meet Dipper.

Dipper faltered, almost losing his edge over the way Bill tried to hide that he actually was offended. Somehow he knew he was hiding. He continued before he could lose his nerve, “You wanted honesty, right? Well, you got it!” He had to stop himself from sputtering, closing his eyes as he declared, “I don't like the way you look at me because I can't,” oh no, “I can't,” oh no, not now. His throat closed and his fists clenched as he let out a loud growl. He couldn't finish. He couldn't find the words. Biting his tongue, he instead turned back around and marched away from Bill. Before the demon started following again, he managed to spit out, “Just go back to the shack!”

Dipper didn't turn back around, nor did he hear the demon following him. The further he got from where the scene had taken place, the more feeling returned to him. His face was hot, probably beet red from the argument. His fists were still clenched, his body felt stiff, and more than anything he wanted to take back what he'd said. Why? Why did he want to take it all back? He'd meant every word, he'd rehearsed just about everything. He may not have said it all in the right order, but he had in fact rehearsed it all.

He wasn't keeping track of how far he was walking. He didn't stop. He didn't think about what he was supposed to be doing. He was just trying to get away from Bill. When he was certain he was alone again, he dropped down beneath a tree and assumed a similar position that he had after Bill had tried confronting him in the hallway. This time he covered his head with his hands, feeling just as foolish as he did then. He was so sick of this. He was sick and tired of feeling unsettled in a place he'd previously found solitude in. He'd felt like a freak more often in the past few weeks than he had in his whole life. Sure, the whole acceptance thing had been a relief. Unfortunately that was completely sullied by Mabel's interference, which was the exact opposite of what Dipper had expected. Nothing was happening the way he wanted it to. Was anything ever going to be normal again?

No. No, it was not. The moment that dawned on him, he stretched out and collapsed under the tree, staring up at its branches. From this angle, he could fool himself into thinking he was just as small as he felt. Letting out a shaky sigh, he felt so completely and utterly deflated. He could technically blame Mabel for all of this. She wanted to help Bill. She pointed out that Bill liked him. She left him alone with Bill so, so often. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't hold her responsible. This was a strange situation for all of them and he had to face it: he usually _was_ the one getting the short end of the stick.

As he continued lying on the ground, he felt like the world was just spinning around him and he couldn't keep up. He knew he should get up and pursue the ingredients. After all, the better prepared he was, the more ready he would be to face the enchanter. Once they faced the enchanter, they could be done with Bill for good. Even thinking that made him feel guilty and he knew why. He just wasn't ready to admit it. For now, he would have to settle with just trying to convince himself to get back on his feet and keep going.

:)

Mabel was focused so much on the aura signatures she was seeing (thanks to the tracking spell) that she nearly ran into several trees moving through the forest. She couldn't identify to whom the auras belonged, but knew one of them had to be Bill. Was the other Dipper? She figured that was the case. She'd tested the spell by looking at the shack. Through the walls she could vaguely see two signatures, one belonging to Grunkle Stan and the other belonging to Soos as they continued working. With that test complete, she'd gone out into the woods to find the demon and her brother.

One of the auras had grown still of late, and that actually concerned her. The other signature, however, was drawing closer to that aura. She was still so far away. She knew this because of how light the images were. When first setting out into the wood she'd had to squint to see anything. She was much closer now, but still so far away.

Her foot caught on something and she stumbled forward, face meeting something warm and somewhat hard. Blinking the spell away, she looked up. “Bill?”

He was glowering down at her, but there was something else in his expression she couldn't quite place. “Your timing is impeccable!” he spat.

She quickly ignored him. “I thought you were with Dipper.”

“The key to that statement is the use of past tense.” He started to push past her.

Mabel called out before he got too far, “But I saw you with him.” He stopped, turning to look at her. She shook her head, trying to rephrase her statement. “I was tracking you. Your signatures were really close together a moment ago. How did you get all the way back here without me seeing it?”

Bill tilted his head, losing the expression he'd had a moment ago in favor of a more puzzled one. “What spell are you using?” She held out her arm to show him what she'd written down. Reading it from afar, he shook his head. “That won't track me. That tracks humans strictly.”

“But—”

“Look, despite the vessel, I am not human. You used the wrong spell!” 

She paled, a sickening feeling culminating in the pit of her stomach. Turning back to the direction where she'd seen the two signatures, she felt bile rose in her throat. “Oh my God,” she muttered. She felt her knees threatening to give. “Oh God, Dipper!” She started to run, dread flowing through her as she realized what this could mean. She stopped only when she heard Bill following her. Whirling around on him, she held her hands out to stop him and he almost knocked her over. “Go back!”

“No!” Oh God, he was panicking too. This wasn't good. This was far from good.

“It could be your trapper! He might still not know where you are—”

“I don't care! Pine tree—”

“Let me worry about my brother.” She pulled Dipper's phone from her pocket, which she'd grabbed just before setting out to find them. “Take this. I'll call you when I find him.”

“Shooting star—”

Before he could argue, she looked to her other arm and, clearing her mind swiftly, read off the compulsion spell. Bill's body went stiff as she followed up the spell with the order, “Go back to the shack and stay there until I call.” Bill looked like he wanted to fight, but clearly couldn't. Grumbling something incoherent, he obeyed her without further discussion.

With that taken care of, Mabel recited the tracking spell again. Once the two signatures appeared, one nearing the other stiller one dangerously now, she ran for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *maniacal laughter dissolves into sobbing*


	9. Chapter 9

When Dipper finally sat up, he started going through his jars, containers, and bags again to reestablish what he'd collected. With everything out in front of him, he opened the journal and started muttering about what else he really needed to go after. Sitting cross-legged on the ground, he managed to come up with a plan that he could go along with. Putting his previous apprehensions and thoughts out of his mind, he started filling his sack again. Counting off the ingredients for the umpteenth time, he continued muttering until he heard a twig snap and someone approaching.

His frustration flared back up full force and he had to grit his teeth to keep from yelling. Glaring up, he snarled, “I told you to leave me—,” he stopped. A shiver went down his spine as he looked up to find one of the last people he'd ever expected to see in the woods. He was dumbfounded at first, because there was something odd about the way the individual stood. He recognized him, no doubt. There was no way in the world Dipper Pines wouldn't be able to recognize Robbie V. But there was just . . . something wrong. Something was very wrong about the way the older teen stood. His hood covered the top half of his face, his arms hung limp, and he looked like he'd been running through the forest (much like Bill had when he and Mabel had found him). Squinting, Dipper asked, “Robbie, what are you—?”

“Where's the demon?” 

The shiver that had gone down Dipper's back earlier was a mere tingle compared to the shock wave that hit him then. That wasn't Robbie's voice. That was entirely too deep and distorted to be Robbie's voice. “R-Robbie?” he stuttered out, suddenly afraid to move at all.

“Robbie isn't here right now. Where's the demon?” the possessed teen repeated. Dipper knew now he was possessed. He could see a faint, red glow coming from under the familiar black hood. When Dipper didn't provide him with an answer, Robbie reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a switchblade. Dipper's eyes went wide. “Where is Bill?” 

He still didn't answer. He couldn't, for various reasons. Staring up at the other he raised his hands slowly, trying to sound calm but voice trembling all the same, “Robbie, listen. If you're here at all—”

“Do you or don't you,” the possessed Robbie interrupted, “know where he is?” There was no good answer to this. Dipper felt himself starting to shiver all over. Run, his brain cried. Run away, but he couldn't move. He couldn't make himself move. “Answer me.” Dipper shook his head, and immediately regretted his decision. “Then you're useless to me.”

Robbie started advancing and Dipper finally scrambled to his feet. He stumbled so much getting up that Robbie caught a hold of his sack and Dipper resorted to throwing it at him. Turning towards the path he'd taken to get there, Dipper proceeded to run for the safety of the shack. Smacking branches and leaping over roots along the way, he didn't look back. He refused to look back. It would only slow him down, and he needed to stay ahead of whatever it was that was chasing him. His heart hammered. His chest hurt. He couldn't breathe, but he made his legs carry him as fast as they could go.

Clambering over and ducking under fallen trees, he veered around a gorge and out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Robbie. He was so close. He was too close to Dipper, and yet there was no way Dipper was going to be able to run any faster. He tried. He focused hard on speeding up. He felt like he was succeeding, like he was actually moving faster.

Until his foot hooked under a raised root. It cracked and twisted, making him cry out as he went down and forward face first. His head hit something hard, another root maybe, and his vision went black and spotted for several minutes. Robbie grabbed the back of Dipper's shirt then and Dipper, still blinded, reached his hands out to grab for something, anything. His fingers encircled what felt like a rock and he managed to grasp it enough to twist about as the possessed teen pulled him up. Striking the other in the jaw, the rock knocked Robbie back enough so that he had to let Dipper go. Falling on his hands and knees, Dipper staggered up. Grimacing at the pain in his ankle and blinking hard several times, he recovered some of his vision and started hobbling away. Looking about for another potential weapon with a little more reach, he stumbled over another similarly large root. This time he landed on his side, the air knocked out of his lungs when something with an edge jutted up into his ribcage. Fumbling for a stick, another rock, something, he was then pounced upon and rolled over by a much angrier, red-eyed Robbie. Dipper wanted to let out a scream as he stared up at the glowing eyes that did not belong to the teen, but he couldn't get enough air down. His pained chest heaved as he tried to breathe, eyes wide and body trembling as Robbie flashed him the knife again. Using the strength he had, Dipper grabbed the wrist holding the knife and proceeded to try to wrest it from the other. Robbie struggled against Dipper's grip, moving to straddle his waist before using his free hand to pry at Dipper's. Dipper whimpered as Robbie's foot brushed the likely broken ankle, crying out when the other proceeded to use his free hand to punch Dipper in the gut instead. The hit felt harder than Robbie should be capable of punching, but Dipper tried to keep his grip on the arm iron, tried to keep the blade from getting any closer to his face. Robbie punched again, this time harder and lower. Dipper arched up, blade cutting into his cheek momentarily, but he refused to let go. The object sticking up into his ribs dug harder, and Dipper couldn't find the breath or the strength or anything that could possibly save him. Robbie punched him one more time, and this time something cracked in Dipper's torso. He threw his head back and to the side, narrowly dodging Robbie's knife as his arms gave and the hand came down. As he gasped out the last of his supply of air and Robbie made like he was about to stab again, he whispered the one spell he could use well and watched as the red-eyed Robbie's face contorted from rage to confusion. He fell on top of Dipper, momentarily stunned.

Vocalizing as the agony set in, Dipper wrenched the switchblade from Robbie's grip and threw it into the woods. Then he used his remaining strength to shove the other off of him before he came to (which wouldn't be long due to the weakness of the spell). Rolling onto his side, Dipper's mouth hung open in a silent scream as his ribs and lungs burned and his guts ached. He collapsed again from the pain, gasping shallowly and letting out a series of whines as he felt his insides threatening to crumble within him. His ankle throbbed, but he still fought to get back on his feet. His arms shook, threatening to give as he struggled to get up. Everything hurt and he was on the verge of tears from the impact. He was almost successfully sitting up when he looked over to see Robbie coming out of his trance and Dipper fell back into panic mode. Crying out but managing to get through the pain, he forced his feet under him and was just about to push up when a hand latched onto his pained ankle. Falling forward and screaming at last, tears spilled from his eyes and whines fled from his lips. Out of breath and fear fresh in his mind, he begged, “Let me go!”

“No,” was Robbie's cold, low response. Dipper let out a startled cry as Robbie pulled him back towards him and flipped him over again. Hands gripped Dipper's throat, and he suddenly lost all air flow and watched as his vision started to fade and blur. Mouth agape and eyes bulging, he heard the words, “If I let you go now, there's no telling what you'll do.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head, he heard someone scream just before Robbie whispered, “Goodnight, Dipper Pines.”

Though his vision was gone, he heard and recognized Mabel's voice with crystal clarity as she spat every aggressive spell she could recall at the top of her lungs, directing each and every one of them at Robbie until he'd flown backwards off her brother. As soon as his throat was free, he started gasping for air. He heard Robbie's body land in the gorge and Mabel's footsteps quickly approaching. Closing his eyes, he started to move his legs only to feel pain coursing through his abdomen. He could hear her panting frantically as she dialed loudly into her cell phone. He heard it ringing until it reached the shack's voicemail. She hung up and dialed again. This time it rang and went to his voicemail instead. “Come on!” she shouted through her teeth as Dipper tried blinking only to find his vision was still spotted.

He could just see tears filling her eyes when she dialed for the shack again and this time Grunkle Stan answered. “What the hell happened?!” he bellowed immediately, loud enough for Dipper to hear.

“Send help. It's Dipper and Robbie,” she ordered.

“Robbie?”

“He attacked Dipper in the woods.” She bit her fist, completely failing to keep calm as the saltwater came pouring down her face out of control. Dipper reached for her hand, groaning and closing his eyes again at the ache of the stretch. She shifted closer to him, her palm gripping his tightly.

“If by help you mean the isosceles jackass, he just went galloping out the door and into the woods.” Dipper started whimpering, shaking his head.

“I ordered him to stay,” she growled, only to have Grunkle Stan yell for Soos and hang up without asking any further questions. She dialed for Dipper's cell again. When there was no answer, he was about to ask why she was calling him when she cried, “Stupid fucking Dorito, answer the phone?!” She dialed one more time. When there was still no answer, she shoved her phone back into her pocket.

“I don't wanna see him,” Dipper muttered only to have his throat strain painfully and his voice crack. His chest hurt from trying to breathe, ribs hurt from whatever had dug into his side. His guts felt bruised and something felt broken that he couldn't identify. His breaths grew yet more labored even as he declared, “He'll brag about being right.”

She sniffled, shaking her head. “You and I both know that's not true. At least not right now.” Be that as it may, Dipper still didn't want to see Bill. The last words he'd shared with the demon were neither nice nor ones he wanted to be reminded of. Mabel shifted her weight again as she let go of his hand to pull up his shirt. Crying out, the protest didn't make it past his lips when she said, “You need to take the binder off.” He couldn't form anything coherent as he started shaking his head, abdomen so sore that his tears flowed freely now. “You can't breathe as it is—”

“Don't. It hurts,” he uttered. The more he tried, the more he realized just how much it hurt to speak. The pain seemed dull on top of everything else he was feeling. He was just starting to struggle for breath again, ignoring the constriction on his chest to take in deep breaths only to gasp at the agony that resulted. More tears slid down the sides of his face when he shifted his legs only for his ankle to send spikes of pain up his leg.

Dipper tried to slide his hands under himself and sit up again, only for Mabel to place her hands on his shoulders. “You just said it hurts. Lie still until someone gets here.”

Nothing was making sense in Dipper's head at the moment. He was in pain, but he needed to get out of the woods and back to the shack where he was safer. He couldn't breathe, but he didn't want to remove the constricting article of clothing because it hurt to much. Removing the binder would either reduce the agony or do something dangerous, like force his probably cracked rib to break even more. His brain circled around and around these topics, but he came to no good conclusion. This only led him to lie still and start slowly panicking even though he had Mabel there, who could and was willing to help him but he didn't . . . he couldn't . . . .

His brain grew fuzzy as the edges of his vision grew yet worse. He heard a ringing in his ears as Mabel whispered to him, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you go by yourself.”

Dropping his voice to barely above a whisper to keep from agitating his already straining throat, he uttered, “I should have let one of you tag along.” Though preferably not Bill. He would have to explain that to them eventually. Just not this moment, when everything hurt and moving and speaking were hard tasks. The fact that Bill was running towards them now, even though both had told him it was best for him to stay put, somehow made him feel even worse.

Dipper's head began to succumb to the static humming in his ears, body aching as the sensation of pins and needles began to dance across his skin. He closed his eyes, wishing to take a deeper breath without the pain that came with the action. He stopped being aware of time and how much it had passed, the only thing tethering him to reality being Mabel's hand gripping his fiercely.

His eyes shot open when someone's hand cupped his face and he almost sat bolt upright only to cry out and fall back down. He blinked away the tears that sprang up again, but they still blurred the image of the demon staring down at him. Mabel started, “I ordered you to—”

“Until you called,” he corrected. He handed something to Mabel, hand leaving Dipper's face to grab hers and place it on Dipper's chest. “Read that.” She obeyed, taking a deep breath to calm down before reciting the spell. When she finished, a strange sensation washed over him and suddenly he couldn't feel anything at all. A moment of panic set in as he realized that meant he couldn't feel himself move, but when he took a breath and the action didn't result in a struggle he quickly relaxed again. Gazing up, he watched as he tried to move his arm and see if the spell had only numbed him. It had, because he still had full motor control. “That'll last a good half hour,” the demon assured as Dipper started to lift his other arm, amused at the lack of feeling and pain he felt. His body was so light he couldn't even feel it. Bill and Mabel immediately pushed his arms down and told him not to move for fear he might hurt himself in this state. That was still a distinct possibility, as he couldn't feel an ounce of pain when he pinched his own arm. “Stop that,” Bill ordered, pushing Dipper's hands back down again. The demon turned back to Mabel. “Now read this one.” Dipper heard them turn the page over as Mabel recited another spell. He didn't feel anything or see anything as a result of the words spoken, but he quickly recognized it from having read the book front to back.

His suspicions were confirmed when Mabel said, “It's all just bruising.” That surprised Dipper, as he'd thought he'd felt his ribs crack at some point. No matter what, she said it with some relief.

“Binder. Off.”

As Dipper started to shake his head again, Mabel said, “I tried.”

“To the shack then. If you don't let us take it off you, I'll cut it off.” Dipper wanted to stiffen out of reflex, but if he did he couldn't feel it. Opening his eyes, he realized that he could still feel on some level as Bill slid his arms under Dipper's legs and shoulders. The sensation was there, but it was dulled by the spell Mabel had cast. 

It was still present enough for Dipper to feel intimidated. Testing his tongue, he vaguely felt his mouth form the words, “Please don't.” He heard his voice come out, but that was all he could sense.

“It's only going to add to the bruising. Now stop squirming or you'll regret it when the spell wears off.” Bill looked to Mabel again as they stood up, a wave of dizziness going through Dipper as he was lifted off the ground. He felt groggy suddenly, and heard himself start speaking though nothing that came out was really coherent. “Where's the bastard who did this?”

“We'll get him,” came another voice. Dipper blinked at the sound of Grunkle Stan's voice. “You three get back to the shack.”

His great uncle was just telling Soos to go fetch Robbie when Bill asked, “Anyone got a spell to knock this one out for a bit? The numbing spell's making him twitch.” Clearly if Dipper was twitching, he didn't realize it.

He did, however, realize he was falling unconscious as soon as Grunkle Stan started uttering something under his breath. By then, it was too late to give a proper reaction.

:)

Bill shifted Dipper in his arms once he went limp, quietly asking forgiveness for breaking the kid's request to leave him alone and not touch him. “It's for your own good, brat,” he uttered, knowing Pine tree couldn't hear him.

As Soos carried Robbie over his shoulder, he told Stanford, “I'll take him to the hospital.”

Stan nodded, then turned back to Mabel and Bill. “Nobody leaves the shack for a while. We need to figure out what happened and come up with a better plan.” The old man was visibly shaken, but he hid it well. Still, there was no denying that he had been affected by what had happened to his nephew. “You assessed the damage?” he asked Shooting star. 

She nodded, “Nothing broken.”

“Good.” He pinned a glare at Bill before moving to follow Soos out of the woods, and the demon knew just what the old man was thinking. Honestly, he was thinking it too.

But Bill elected to focus on who to blame after they got Dipper home and taken care of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will come a day when I DON'T hurt Dipper in the process of telling my story.
> 
> It is not this day.


	10. Chapter 10

When Dipper came to, he was lying in his bed and in pain all over again. The one plus was that breathing wasn't as hard as it had been. Shifting slightly, he attributed this to the fact that his binder was missing. Glancing down, he felt himself shrink under the blanket someone had placed over him. He felt a mix of self-consciousness and violation, combined with an overwhelming amount of vulnerability that refused to be quelled. Pulling the blanket up higher with one hand, he glanced about the room nervously. A moment of panic set in when he saw no one was in the room with him at first. It was hard to tell with the lights off while it was dark out. Only when he heard someone shifting on the floor beside his bed did he realize he wasn't by himself. Seeing the individual made him wish he was, though.

Bill groaned as he sat up, Dipper shrinking further under the covers out of habit. His abdomen ached as he tensed anxiously, eyes fixed on the demon who'd been lying on the floor beside his bed. He closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep only to have Bill say, “That trick doesn't work on me, kid. I know you're awake.” Dipper watched as the demon pointed to a bottle of pills and a glass of water on top of his dresser. “Shooting star said you should take those. Want me to get them for you?”

He shook his head, deciding the pain wasn't bad enough to warrant medication yet. This was especially true if he managed to keep most of his torso still. Clearing his throat, it was still sore from Robbie choking him. Still, when he managed to swallow the lump in his throat he started rattling off questions, “What happened to Robbie? Is Mabel okay? Where's my—?”

“Slow down,” Bill interrupted. When Dipper didn't continue talking, the demon started answering what he had already asked. “Question mark took the other guy to the hospital. Shooting star's fine. She's downstairs researching with Stanford to keep the old man distracted.” Dipper's brow furrowed, and Bill added, “He's upset that you got hurt after he sent you out in the woods.” Dipper imagined the old man would be, but he didn't blame him. Dipper didn't really blame anyone other than himself for what had happened. Even blaming himself had its limitations, though. Before he could move on to his next question, Bill declared, “As for your binder, I didn't cut it off if that's what you're thinking. Your sister took it off you and hid it in case you tried to put it back on before you've fully healed.”

He wanted to let out a series of curses at Mabel for that. He understood why she'd done it, but that didn't mean he was happy with her about it. The weakness he felt without it was greater than his concern for his ribcage most days, and not knowing where it was at all . . . he had to stop. Trying not to think too much about it, he explained, “Robbie was possessed. He didn't—”

“We figured that out.” Before Dipper could ask how, Bill said, “Question mark called while you were out. The emo doesn't remember anything. The last memory he had was of waiting for his date at a restaurant two nights ago.” Dipper sighed. Of course he didn't remember anything. That would be too easy. “Shooting star and Stanford are trying to figure out what sort of magic could do that.”

“Could it be another demon?”

Bill shook his head. “No. Shooting star wouldn't have been able to track him if it were a demonic possession.” Staring up at the ceiling with silence hanging between them, Dipper felt his chest starting to hurt as he recalled the last conversation the two of them had. At the time, he'd felt justified in being angry with Bill. Now he felt somewhat guilty. The guilt increased as Bill shifted beside him. Leaning against the dresser beside his bed, the demon sat awkwardly with his legs against his chest. It wasn't a position Dipper would have ever imagined the demon taking. It almost seemed . . . insecure. He started to feel worse when the demon asked, “Do you want me to leave you alone?” His head said that maybe Bill should go. It would be easier to ignore how confused he was if the two of them weren't in the same room. It made sense for him to say yes, but instead he found himself shaking his head. Bill nodded, accepting the movement as an answer. Looking down, now Dipper was at a loss for what to say. He felt like he should say something, explain his earlier words. Then again, he still wasn't sure he had a proper explanation. Not one that Bill could understand, at least. It actually did matter to Dipper that the demon understand why he'd reacted the way he had, why he felt uncomfortable about things. Just as he was beginning to understand what that meant about Dipper himself, said demon uttered, “Sorry.”

Dipper's eyes widened as he glanced to the demon. He'd just apologized. Bill Cipher had just apologized to him. “For what?” he stammered out, still unsure he'd heard what he thought he'd heard.

“Because,” Bill paused, piecing together his sentences, “because a lot of this . . . all of this . . . is really my doing. I realize that, yet I still stick around.”

Dipper's answer was immediate, and his throat strained on the words, “I would have gotten attacked even if you weren't here. He was going to kill me for _not_ knowing where you were.”

He could just see Bill's brow crease as the demon turned to look at him. “You didn't tell him?” Dipper hesitated, suddenly even more anxious about having divulged that with the demon. Still, he managed a nod after a few brief moments of deliberation. “Why? That was the whole point of the plan Shooting star and I came up with. It was for the enchanter to find out where I was.”

His face reddened as he looked away. “We weren't ready.” That was a lie. He knew Mabel was more than ready to face down the enchanter as he recalled how quickly she'd taken Robbie down. “I wasn't ready,” he corrected himself. There was something else, but he just as he wasn't prepared to face Bill's trapper he wasn't prepared to face that reason just yet.

As Bill looked away again however, he could feel himself doing just that. “You should have told him.” The words came out bitterly, and Dipper sure as hell hadn't expected them to cut him the way they did. “Maybe you could have saved yourself some trouble.”

That grated on Dipper's nerves in a way he hadn't anticipated, just as the bitterness of Bill's tone had surprisingly thrown him off. Glancing at Bill, he could just see it: the sadness. That same sadness that had made itself known just before Dipper had come out to Bill was showing again, and Dipper was beginning to think he knew what it was. He didn't want to be right, though. He didn't want Mabel to be right. He didn't want to know any of what he'd come to know because all it had done was complicate matters further and make him feel confused and self-conscious and unsure of how he felt about just about everything.

He started to roll over and away, only for the bruising in his torso to send multiple waves of pain through him. He let out a whimper, and almost jumped when Bill grabbed his arm to keep him still. When he stopped moving, agony lingering and making him shiver, Bill let go of him just as quickly as he'd touched him. Though Dipper didn't want to think about it, he recalled the way the demon had held Dipper's face in his hand before he'd fallen under the numbing spell and was later knocked out. The reminder of the gesture only drove home the facts he'd wished he could forget so often of late. Regardless of what he'd wanted to believe, they were more akin to facts than theories now.

He saw Bill reaching for the bottle of pain meds and said, “I don't want them.”

“They'll help,” Bill argued.

“They'll put me to sleep,” Dipper retorted.

“Don't make me shove them down your throat.”

“Bill, please,” Dipper pleaded. Bill sighed and reluctantly dropped his hand, looking away again with that same sad expression. Dipper wished he'd never seen that expression, because all it was doing was making him feel worse and worse about continuously pushing the demon away and he didn't want to think of why. He had to stick by what he'd said to Mabel when she first mentioned that Bill liked him. He couldn't afford to go against it now. That didn't mean he didn't owe the demon an apology. Swallowing again, he felt his throat threatening to close around the words. He struggled with that and the pain that arose from his anxiety, finally mustering up the voice to say, “I'm sorry for what I said. In the woods, I mean.”

The sad look didn't go away. In fact, it got worse as the demon said. “You don't have to apologize. I can tell when I'm not wanted.”

Had Dipper known Bill was capable of looking even more dejected, he would have shut up from the get-go. As it was, he was more desperate to get his point across even though he hadn't quite found the words to describe what he was feeling yet. “It's not that,” he corrected. He bit his lip, once again fighting with his sore throat and voice to keep up with what he was trying to do. He was suddenly afraid that it was all going to come out wrong. Knowing him and his track record, it inevitably would. Closing his eyes to keep from watching Bill's expression change, he began with, “I have a really hard time believing anyone could actually like me, least of all someone like you. It's rare that I like someone in return, and,” he deliberated on whether or not to admit what he really was trying to admit, biting his lip again as he felt himself starting to sweat, “and . . . I actually,” don't flake out, you can do this, he thought to himself, “I actually . . . like you. The way Mabel says you like me. But . . . I don't know what I'm saying right now. I'm just trying—”

“Pine tree,” Dipper's eyes slid open and he found Bill staring back at him. He couldn't quite read the demon's expression, but he didn't look quite as melancholic as before. “I suck at this about as much as you do. This is not my area of expertise.”

Whether that was meant to insult or reassure, Dipper wasn't sure. So he just took a deep breath and tried to press on without stumbling. “Mabel thinks you like me. I think you like me. I don't know if it's actually true, but I do know I like you and I seriously don't want to—”

“I may suck at this, but I understand that much.” He tilted his head, brow knitting as he waited for Dipper to continue.

“I,” Dipper let out a harsh exhale through the nose, regretting it as his abdomen protested against the internal repercussions of breathing. “I don't want to because . . . I don't think we like each other the same way.”

Bill's eyes narrowed as he thought about what Dipper was saying. Scratching his head, he asked, “What's your evidence?”

Dipper's hands crossed over his chest and he distracted himself by tapping his fingers together, trying very hard to remain calm as he uttered, “What I wanted to say in the woods, but couldn't articulate . . . was that when you look at me the way you sometimes do, I know that,” he paused to stop twitching, closing his eyes as he struggled to keep calm and not get irritated with himself again in order to finish, “I know that I can't reciprocate. The very thought makes me uncomfortable.”

He felt a dip in the bed, opening his eyes to see Bill leaning on the mattress with his chin resting on his forearms. His expression still unreadable, he asked, “Is there anything I do that _doesn't_ make you uncomfortable?” Dipper would be lying if he said no, but he didn't have a good answer for Bill. He was partially relieved when the demon continued without waiting for Dipper to answer, as if the question were rhetorical. “Is that the only reason you won't . . . what's the human term for it nowadays?”

Dipper squinted, having to think about it for a second himself. “Dating?”

“Dating? Weird. Is that the only reason you won't date me?”

Dipper sighed, covering his face with one hand. “No it's . . . there are so many reasons why.” He tried to come up with some, but literally all that came to mind was, “You're a demon.”

“You think demons haven't courted humans before? Boy, you don't get out much.”

Somehow he already felt like he was talking to a brick wall. Why was that even a surprise? “I'm mortal.”

“That can be changed.”

Dipper didn't want to know how. “We were enemies once.”

Bill grimaced. “Hardly. If we were really at each other's throats, do you think you'd be breathing now?”

Well, he wasn't breathing very well. Shaking his head, Dipper added, “What happens when you return to your normal form?”

For the first time in a long time, Bill smirked and snorted at him. “That's easy: I see you in your dreams.”

Why did that sound appealing? Sighing, here came the deal breaker. “I'm not interested in . . .,” oh God, why must he blush every time he thought of it? Why? “I'm not interested in . . . large amounts of,” he bit his lip, and he couldn't almost feel Bill getting agitated at his hesitation, “intimacy. Like, at all.” That was putting it lightly. Very lightly. But it was the best way he could say it without going into explicit detail.

Was it just him, or had Bill getting closer to him this whole time? He told himself it was just him, but at the very least Bill's head was now propped up by one of his hands. His face was unreadable, but his eyes . . . the pupils weren't dilated, but they were certainly expressive enough to warrant some alarm in Dipper. He wasn't sure alarm was the right word, but he certainly did feel strange. “What about small amounts of intimacy?”

Dipper's skin didn't crawl the way it usually did at the mention. It tingled, but it didn't crawl. Eyes narrowing, he responded, “Define small.”

Bill straightened then, head lifting as his hand extended and a finger traced the side of Dipper's face. He felt electricity pulse through him where the demon touched, and sucked in a shaky breath before gulping. He closed his eyes as Bill's smile widened, keeping them shut in the event he saw the demon's pupils dilate and lost his nerve completely. What little nerve he had left, that is. He felt sort of stuck at the moment and the fact that they were still very much alone in a steadily darkening room didn't help in the slightest. He tensed further, whimpering slightly at the number it did on his bruised guts. Bill's hand left his face as the demon sighed. “Ever since Shooting star pointed my behavior around you out to me, all I've wanted to do is kiss you honestly.” Dipper was torn between screaming at Mabel again and just shutting up to save himself. When Bill added, “Among other things,” Dipper quickly clamped his mouth shut. Biting down another whine, he dared to slide his eyes open. Much to Bill's credit, his eyes were not that dilated. Were they half-lidded and trained wholly on Dipper, though? Yes. Yes they were, and Dipper's teeth started to worry at his bottom lip again. He held his breath when Bill's thumb touched the corner of his mouth, applying just enough pressure to stop him from chewing on his lip. When Bill asked, “Can I kiss you?” Dipper was one breath away from screeching some variant of a curse.

What came out was so, so much worse. “I'm sure you're physically able to.” Oh God, it had even come out as a squeak. When it came to nerdy grammar jokes, that one took the crown. On top of that, he'd just said it to someone who was openly making a move on him. “Oh my God,” he said, deflating and squeezing his eyes shut as he smacked himself in the face. “Oh my God, that was terrible.” Terrible enough that Bill had paused, stared at him, then burst out laughing. Dipper honestly wanted to by annoyed with the demon, wanted to tell him that it wasn't that hilarious. The demon fell back against the dresser, covering his eyes as Dipper narrowed his even more. “Stop,” he uttered halfheartedly, because in the back of his mind having Bill laugh at him again was so much better than seeing him mope.

He was going to say something else when Bill recovered and, all of a sudden, the demon was leaning over him and his lips were on Dipper's. Dipper's eyes went wide as he realized what was happening, the fluster turning into a full on blush as Bill's hands cupped the sides of his face. Dipper's eyes slid shut, his own fingers reaching up to thread through Bill's hair as he returned the kiss clumsily. Bill moaned, the sound sending warning shivers through Dipper before he relaxed completely into the demon's kiss. All his previous thoughts, ideas, aggravations, doubts dissipated as he succumbed almost completely to Bill's kiss. There was a flag in the back of his mind standing upright, a hint of the danger that might ensue due to these unpredicted actions. Somehow even that seemed drowned out the more Bill kissed him. Only when Dipper started leaning more into the kiss did he gasp, remembering that he was still bruised and on bed rest. Settling back down against the pillows, Bill remained poised over him with eyes closed. After a few bated breaths, the demon asked, “How's that?”

Dipper had to think about it, regain his faculties enough not to say something awful again. “I can live with that.” Despite what he'd feared, that had not been nearly as terrifying as he'd originally thought his first kiss would turn out to be. He didn't yet feel intimidated, which felt like such a foreign concept when in the presence of Bill Cipher. Sighing as the demon pulled away to situate himself on the bed beside Dipper, he moved gently enough so as not to disturb the injured teen. When everything that had just happened came crashing to the forefront of his mind, Dipper sighed. A tinge of aggravation shown through as he declared, “This was the exact opposite I expected this conversation to go.”

Bill looked down at him, a small smirk on his lips as he ran his fingers through Dipper's hair. “Seems to be a trend with us, don't you think?” When he thought about it, he realized it was true. He nodded, then Bill asked, “Any regrets?”

Again, Dipper thought about it. Eyebrows raising, he couldn't come up with anymore protests. He blamed the kiss for totally wiping everything from his mind before saying, “Not yet.” He was relieved when Bill only chuckled at the answer.

The real question was how long would it take for Mabel to start flaunting the fact that she'd been right. Knowing her, it was happening already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So "Somewhere Only We Know" started playing during the really shippy part. God was laughing at me, kids.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cello! I've gotten a couple of notes on the fact that Dipper wears his binder at inappropriate times, namely when he goes to sleep. This is a PSA: don't do that. Wearing a binder to bed is terrible for your rib cage, Dipper you worrisome child. It's gonna be mentioned throughout the story that Dipper has TERRIBLE binding habits, and he's scared the shit out of his family before. The important thing is that everyone who reads this and enjoys this knows that no, you're not supposed to do these things to yourself. Bind safely, kids.

Pine tree managed to lie still for once, like his body knew that shifting and turning would only serve to wake him up and disturb the much needed rest. Usually the teen would be tossing by now. Bill supposed it was because he was lying beside Dipper that he didn't feel the need to move all that much, the demon's fingers laced with the human's even while the latter slept.

Bill could feel himself watching him more than normal, eyes locked on various parts of Pine tree's body as if monitoring the human's vitals. Bill's eyes narrowed on Dipper's breathing, waiting to hear the stutter of breath that indicated a nightmare had begun. The teen couldn't really afford to get involved in a nightmare situation. If he rolled over even once he would wake himself up and start crying from the bruises he'd received from that Robbie fellow. Bill's blood started boiling, eyes narrowing further and face heating up at the thought of the young man who'd hurt his Pine tree.

His Pine tree.

Dipper was his.

It took a good few hours for the thought to completely register. It was Mabel who had inadvertently pointed out he'd been staring at Dipper for hours. When she'd come up to go to bed and found him lying beside her twin, she'd squinted and asked quietly, “He realizes you're in the same bed as him, right?” Bill almost answered that no, Pine tree was completely unaware of his presence and when he woke up Bill was going to laugh at how loud he screamed. Instead, he just nodded. He could see Shooting star's expression shift from shocked to elated to concerned in six seconds flat. “You're holding hands?” Bill didn't answer, and didn't need to. She looked like she wanted to be excited, but quickly covered her face as her cheeks turned pink. “Grunkle Stan's gonna kill me.”

Bill didn't need context to understand what she meant. Whether or not he should be concerned, he would decide later. For the time being he continued to ensure Pine tree got his rest. Only then did he realize what time it was and how long he'd been watching over the human. He continued to watch undeterred.

Or so he thought. Sometime that night he'd drifted off and didn't wake up until he felt Dipper moving beside him. The teen was trying to sit up, and Bill could just hear the whimpers he was unsuccessfully attempting to keep inaudible. Head still fogged over from the unintended sleep, he felt his seemingly heavy arm snake around Pine tree's shoulders to keep him down. Dipper let out a gasp, hands moving up to grip Bill's forearm and elbow. Though he made clear noises of protest, his body lost some of its tenseness as he relaxed back onto the mattress. Evening out his breathing enough to speak, Dipper whispered, “Bill, I need to get up.”

“For what?” he asked without opening his eyes.

Pine tree sighed, exasperated. “Bathroom. Food. Boring human needs you sometimes forget about.”

Bill snorted. He wasn't wrong on that account. Bill often forgot all of the disgusting parts about being human until it was necessary to remember them. Forcing himself up onto his other hand, he kept his arm over Dipper long enough to formulate the sentence, “I'll help you up.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “You don't have to help me with everything. I'm gonna need to take care of myself eventually.”

“Eventually, but not right now. Right now, you have a few ribs that _want_ to break and I'm gonna make sure that doesn't happen.” Pine tree's brow furrowed, as if trying to comprehend Bill's statement. Then Bill pulled himself upright enough to slide his hands under Dipper's back. “Get ready to sit up.”

Dipper had to squeeze his eyes shut as the demon helped lift him off the mattress. Once he was sitting up for the most part (Bill continued to keep at least one hand on the human's back to make sure he didn't fall back down), he let out a gasp and a few whines at the bruising on his insides. Slowly sliding his legs off the bed, Dipper declared, “I'm surprised,” he huffed, “you're actually helping and not,” his feet touched the floor and he let out a long sigh, “trying to inflict more pain.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because you find pain funny.”

Bill rubbed his eyes. “True. But I'm not about to cause you bodily harm our first day of dating. Kinda makes for a bad impression.”

Dipper fought to get on his feet, and the demon found at least some relief in the fact that his ankle wasn't bothering him enough to warrant Bill offering to carry the teen. He was pretty sure Pine tree would give him a disgruntled answer if he brought it up. Moving slowly to the door, Pine tree asked, “Does this still count as our first day? What's your rule for second days?”

The demon snickered. “You've got a few weeks to go before I start to maim you.”

“I'll remember you said that,” he huffed, hunching over slightly. Bill placed a hand on the small of Dipper's back, trying to encourage him to stand up straighter. The human was blinking back tears as one of the demon's hands entwined with his, allowing Dipper to squeeze it as hard as he could to indicate how much pain he was in. “Now let me get through a day without maiming myself.”

“Splendid plan.”

:)

Dipper struggled through the day, his insides aching and fighting his every move. Getting food down was actually difficult as sitting up straight to eat was damn near excruciating. At some point Mabel took a break from helping Grunkle Stan in the shop and made him milkshakes. He was actually okay with that so long as he could lie down partially while slurping them. He caught Bill smirking at him as he was leaning against the demon's chest on the couch, stretched out with his head on the demon's shoulder and a lidded cup in both hand. Though the demon wasn't saying anything, he grumbled out, “Shut up,” lips still surrounding the straw and ice cream in his mouth.

“I'll just keep those thoughts to myself then.” Dipper squinted and groaned, inadvertently imagining what the demon might have been thinking. It could be anything really, but given the events of the past twenty-four hours he was now blushing and a little frightened all over again. He was about to set the cup down when one of Bill's hands started running through his hair, combing through the brunette locks with his fingers. The feeling was relaxing enough that Dipper's anxiety over the demon's perceived thoughts melted away and he continued doing what he was doing without worrying. Then the demon uttered, “I was actually thinking that I want some.”

Dipper exhaled through the nose, pulling the cup away from his lips and swallowing the remainder of the shake he'd drawn in. “Then go get some.”

“I'm not gonna move. Not with you lying here.”

“Oh, so I'm holding you back now?”

“Why would I get up when there's a perfectly good cup right here?”

Dipper glared. “It's mine.”

“I don't want to get up. Just one sip.”

Honestly, Dipper didn't want to get up either. Nor did he want to give up his milkshake. “You'd really take a milkshake from your injured boyfriend?”

Bill's smirk turned into a full out grin and Dipper couldn't tell if it was from him saying the word boyfriend or the notion that he could simply take the milkshake. He should be more scared than he was. Then Bill answered, “To be fair to me, I haven't taken it from you yet.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. He guessed he had to give Bill props for that. “Here,” he said offering him the cup. If Dipper were being honest with himself, he was glad Bill hadn't just gotten up to get his own. That would have meant Dipper had to move and he had done his fair share of moving for today. When Bill had taken a long pull from the cup and handed it back to Dipper, the teen shook his head and said, “I don't want it now.”

“Take the damn milkshake.”

“You put your mouth on it.”

“And I put my mouth on you, now take it.”

“Bill!” Dipper's face was beet red at the statement, meanwhile the demon was guffawing at him. Snatching the milkshake out of the demon's hand, his middle ached from the quick movement but not enough to warrant an outcry.

When the demon finished laughing at him, he whispered, “I'll do it again, if you like.”

“Oh God, just shut up,” because Dipper wasn't sure he could get any redder and didn't want to let Bill think he was being challenged with the task. When Mabel walked in with her cell phone in hand, Dipper was almost relieved to see her. That is, until he saw the look on her face. She looked nervous about speaking to him. Brow furrowing, he asked, “What's wrong?”

“It's,” she hesitated, holding the phone out to him, “it's for you.” He stared at it for a moment, confused as to why she was acting so unsure about it. “It's Robbie.”

Oh. That's why. His hand shook as he reached to take the phone from her hand. She hovered over him, waiting for him to answer it. Holding the cell to his ear, he uttered, “Hello?”

“Hey,” the voice on the other end didn't sound nearly as aggressive as it usually did when addressing Dipper. In fact, he couldn't recall hearing Robbie sound so troubled since he and Wendy broke up those years ago. “I,” there was a huff in his ear indicating Robbie had sighed directly into the phone, “I heard I did a number on you while I was out. I . . . wanted to check in and say that I didn't mean to.” Dipper was at a loss for words. Having Robbie apologize to him was about as remarkable as Bill apologizing to him. In fact, both seemed downright unlikely and both had occurred that same day almost. Was he dead? Dipper had to be dead. It was also surreal to hear and imagine Robbie after having heard another voice emanate from his body. Dipper was having a difficult time shaking the image of the red eyes. “I know I,” Robbie stopped, checking himself before he got too upset over what had happened, “I know I've threatened you before and stuff, but I never really wanted to—”

“It's okay man,” Dipper cut him off, saving him the frustration. “I've kinda been possessed before. I know what it's like.” Said possessor was grinning dangerously down at him over the statement, and Dipper was tempted to cover the demon's face with his hand just so he wouldn't have to try and translate what exactly that facial expression meant.

“Yeah,” Robbie sighed, “about the whole . . . possession thing. I wish I could tell you more, but . . . I had to be reminded what I did to you. I honestly can't remember a thing.”

“Soos said the last thing you remembered was you were meeting someone for a date, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Tambry and I . . . still going strong. She wasn't too pleased that I missed the date at first.”

That was good to hear. Something occurred to Dipper, which led him to ask, “How upscale was the restaurant?”

Robbie thought for a moment. “Pretty nice. One of the nicer places in town.”

Dipper nodded, concluding that whoever it was who had possessed Robbie probably had a more expensive taste than the average Gravity Falls citizen. Either that or they'd specifically targeted Robbie for some reason. “Thanks man.”

“Take care of yourself.” Then he hung up.

Handing the phone back to Mabel, she said, “He was really worried. All Soos told him was that he beat you up.”

“Does he know about me?” Bill asked.

She shook her head. “He knows you exist, but not that you're here.”

It was Bill's turn to furrow his brow. “We need to head out to town soon.”

“And to the nice parts of town. I think the enchanter's got money to spare,” Dipper said. “Either that or he's obsessed with the children of funeral directors.”

“Still think its Gideon?” Mabel asked.

Dipper nodded. “We should check it out soon, before someone else comes romping through the woods.”

“Got bad news for you, Pine tree,” Bill declared. “No one is heading into town until you're well again.”

“I know, I'm just planning ahead.”

“Technically you're making a plan to make a plan,” Mabel corrected. “You should really be resting. Turn on some television.”

“I can't. Grunkle Stan lost the remote again.”

“Speaking of Grunkle Stan,” she started drifting out of the room, whispering, “he still doesn't know the two of you are together, so no making out on the couch.”

Dipper was about to question how she knew when Bill went, “Well, darn. What else am I gonna do with myself?”

He was about to bark something at the demon when Mabel interrupted, “Actually, Wendy and the gang wanted to come check up on you.”

Dipper stiffened. “No!” 

Mabel squinted, and she was about to ask 'why' when Dipper pointed at his chest and glared at her. “Oh,” she murmured. “Yeah, about that—”

“Where is it?” he asked pointedly.

“Safe. You're not getting it back till you can wear it, either.”

“Mabel, I know I can't put it on. I just want it back.”

“Dipper,” she mimicked his tone, “I'll give it to you when you're feeling better.”

“I can't see anyone like this!” He was starting to feel his gut clench, which made the bruising in his torso protest. He whined a little, trying to piece together his next sentence. “What if—?”

“Just pull a blanket over yourself and keep still. You're injured! You're in pain! Be injured and in pain!” Dipper might actually throw something at her. She didn't get it. She just didn't get it. Turning his head away, he glared at the blank television set. His twin sighed. “They're . . . already in the shop waiting to see you.”

The pressure in his abdomen returned and he was about ready to snap. “Mabel—”

“Do you want to see them?” Bill asked, interrupting the twins' argument. Dipper huffed, stopping to think about it. “Because if you don't, we could always tell them to come back later.”

This was true, but Dipper actually considered things for a moment. It would be good to talk to someone not Bill or Mabel or Stan for a change. He'd been so wrapped up in figuring things out and studying that he really would like to see the others. Also, they were probably more aware of what was going on in the town than he was at the moment. It was just going to be hard feeling safe without the binder. No matter what Mabel said, he just felt vulnerable without it. But they had a good idea. He could just cover up with a blanket. It still made him nervous. What if he needed to get up at some point? Then again, it wasn't like Bill was going to let him move without knowing every detail of what he was up to. Rolling his eyes, he answered honestly, “Yeah, I wanna see them.”

“Alright then!” Mabel responded cheerily. “I'll be back with a blanket!”

Dipper sighed, suddenly more unsure than before. Sipping the milkshake nervously, Bill's hand tangled in his hair again and the demon said, “If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure your friends will be staring at me more than they will be at you.” Dipper hadn't thought of that. “So how are you gonna introduce your hot, blonde, demon date?”

Dipper snorted. “I'm gonna stare at them wide-eyed and whisper, 'you see him too?'”

Bill burst out laughing, and honestly Dipper couldn't help but smile too. He had to admit, that wasn't a bad line. Then Bill placed a kiss on Dipper's temple and Dipper flushed. Smiling against his hair, Bill asked, “Still good?”

Dipper nodded. “Still good.”


	12. Chapter 12

The living room was crowded with Dipper's friends and he was struggling to breathe. The blanket wasn't helping, as he was still panicking. He was at least good at hiding it. He wasn't sweating, he wasn't too stiff, he just had a raging storm in his guts that churned every time one of the guys got too close to him.

For once he was glad for Mabel's ability to draw the attention of all in the room. When people were focused on her or messing with Thompson, Dipper actually felt himself relax. When the attention turned to him and Bill, however, the anxiety threatened to rush in and capsize his train of thought. For the most part, however, Lee and Nate poked fun at Thompson, Tambry snapchatted and texted Robbie, and Wendy chilled. They passed around bags of chips and drinks the others had brought to cheer Dipper up. That had helped him a lot actually, after having only consumed, like, two pitchers of milkshake. Dipper was actually proud of how easily they'd fallen for his joke about Bill's presence. It actually took Lee and Nate a few minutes to calm down, as apparently they still weren't entirely over the Dusk 2 Dawn incident from years before. After a few inquiries about Bill's actual origin, Mabel came up with the story that he was a visiting friend of the family. While unoriginal, it still took a lot better than they'd thought. Dipper had been apprehensive about Bill being there, but the demon was actually doing really well at hiding his more demonic qualities. They even managed to convince the gang that Bill was wearing colored contacts so they weren't too suspicious of his eyes.

Half the reason he was staying so calm was because Bill was there. For some odd reason it was a comfort knowing he had a demon on his side. As much as Bill counted for being on his side. He still had his doubts, though. He was Bill Cipher. Bill Cipher always had multiple plans running at once. It was incredibly Dipper was still feeling somewhat safe with the demon once that thought decided to sink in. 

“I'll be right back,” were the words Dipper had dreaded. Bill eased out from behind Dipper, leaving the teen lying on the couch to go do whatever it was he was doing. 

Once Dipper was left with his friends, though, his eyes darted about the room and his face grew hot. “So,” it was actually Tambry that started the dreaded questioning, “is that your bae?” She didn't even look up from her phone to see that Dipper was practically shaking under the scrutiny.

Mabel saved him from having to ask what a bae was. “Grunkle Stan doesn't know. Shhh,” she stage whispered, even putting a finger over her lips.

That didn't stop everyone from collectively gasping. Dipper almost ducked under the covers to hide from the wide eyes of his friends. “Oh my God, dude!” Wendy cried out, “for how long?”

“Uh . . .,” Dipper stammered, struggling to speak, “we . . . just started? Yesterday?”

“Have you hit that yet?” Lee asked.

“Seriously?” Tambry growled, taking a moment to glare at the guy before going right back to texting. Meanwhile Dipper actually did pull the covers up over his face.

“Come on, give Dr. Funtimes a break,” Nate declared. There was a pause. “Except now I really wanna know.”

“No!” Dipper cried from under the blanket. “No, I haven't!” And he damn well wasn't going to.

“Guys, it's only been a day. You know how awkward my bro is,” Mabel interjected. He would have thanked her if not for the awkward part.

“Dude, at least tell us how you got together,” Thompson added.

“Yeah, come on. Spill the dets!” Wendy declared. Dipper shook his head under the blanket. “I will rip that cover off you if you don't tell us!”

Dipper poked his head from under the blanket to glare at Wendy only to be taken aback once again by the fact that all eyes were on him. Now he was sweating. Now he really was nervous. Jesus, everything was starting to hurt now. Before he could even formulate an answer, Nate asked, “Who kissed who?”

Was everything going to be an assumption based on the physical aspects of relationships? Jesus, he didn't even need to be here since all they planned to do was assume. “Let's get real guys,” Tambry said without looking up from her phone, “who do _you_ think made the first move?”

“I don't know.” Thompson scratched his head. “We don't know Bill that well.”

“Dr. Funtimes is perfectly capable of making a first move,” Lee declared.

Mabel snorted. “You don't know my brother very well, do you?”

“He had to think I was dead to say anything about liking me,” Wendy admitted.

“Really?!” Dipper finally shouted.

“Sorry dude,” she immediately apologized. “I thought we were cool with that.”

“No, it's just—,” he clamped his mouth shut, unable to go on. Could he have gotten any redder? He honestly didn't think so. Shuddering under the blanket, he was even more miffed when Mabel reached down to pat his head and shush him. “Shut up,” he growled.

“Dude, you're acting like its your first relationship or something.” Dipper scowled at Wendy and her eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?” It seemed as his gaze narrowed, hers continued to do the exact opposite. She raised her hands in utter disbelief. “Are you serious?!” she cried gleefully.

“Now that's adorable,” Nate said. 

Meanwhile Mabel was snickering. Dipper glowered up at her, wishing she would use one of her spells to read his mind. If she did, she would hear him uttering, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you so much right now,” over and over and over again. No matter how wrong it felt, he could legitimately blame her for this entire predicament.

As if the universe wanted to prevent her from knowing that's what he was thinking, her phone rang and she bounced up after reading the text message. “Gotta go, guys! Gonna go do some grocery shopping.”

All anger at his twin dissipated as he inwardly begged for her not to leave him here alone without a binder or Bill and with absolutely no way to carry on a conversation because he was simply too embarrassed to speak. He didn't find his voice again until after she had said all of her goodbyes and was gone. He almost sighed with relief when Bill came back into the room mere seconds later. Then he returned to glaring at the demon, who was holding back a toothy grin as he said, “I leave for two minutes and you've turned him into a tomato,” he pointed to Dipper before helping the teen up and sliding back into his place on the couch. “You must have been talking about me.”

“Handsome and a ham,” Tambry declared.

“Ha! I'm not a ham. That's a ham.” Waddles squealed as Bill pointed at him, the pick trotting out of the room quickly. The group laughed.

“Clear something up for us, man,” Wendy began. “Did you make the first move or did Dipper? He's not fessing up.”

Bill's snort turned into a chuckle. He looked down at Dipper and asked, “Are you gonna get mad at me for talking?” Dipper contemplated nodding, but then if Bill answered the questions he wouldn't have to speak. Still, that was also giving the demon a lot of leeway. He could embellish or improve anything if Dipper gave him that kind of power. Growing tense, abdomen straining, he was about to answer when Bill stage whispered, “I'll make you look good.” 

At that point, Dipper didn't even need to shake his head. Apparently his facial expression was enough of a 'no, I won't be mad' or 'yes please take over' for the demon. Dipper still managed to croak out, “Go ahead,” before Bill went to town, though.

Dipper immediately regretted this decision. Bill gave everyone a cocky smile before stating plainly, “He has the best pickup lines.” The group guffawed and Dipper shrank in his seat, blush returning full force. Glaring up at the demon, he almost shook his head in disapproval. “What? I liked it? Shall I repeat what you—?”

“No,” Dipper said through gritted teeth. In a moment of spontaneity that his twin would be proud of, he pointed to a bag of chips and said, “Wendy, can you—?”

“Sure thing,” she said through laughs, passing him the bag.

Dipper pulled a triangular corn chip from the bag and held it up for Bill to see. “Imagine this is you.” He gave the demon a pointed look and added, “It shouldn't be too hard.” Then, in one fluid movement, he bit the chip in half and his friends let out a loud series of whoops while Bill's eyes widened.

He chewed carefully, watching and judging the demon's reaction. Then Bill's smirk grew soft as he started to nuzzle Dipper's neck. When his mouth was right beside Dipper's ear, however, the demon whispered low enough just for him to hear, “I guess I'll be maiming you a little sooner than intended.”

The teen shivered and his abdomen protested. He should be scared, smiling nervously and leaning against a demon with sharp teeth and eyes for him. Instead he was going to spend a few days trying to think of a witty comeback and failing.

:)

Mabel, Grenda, and Candy started off with a list of groceries, but eventually wound up in markets not the grocery store. It was in one of these markets she ran into someone she hadn't seen for a very long time. “Pacifica?”

The blonde looked up from the rack she was looking at, pulling down her sunglasses to glimpse the brunette. “Mabel Pines,” she uttered. “I thought you'd be with your brother.”

Mabel stiffened. “So you've heard too?”

Pacifica came around to stand with her and the others. “Yeah. Word travels quickly in small towns right?” she asked nervously. Then she cleared her throat and asked, “How's he doing?”

She shrugged. “He's got some friends with him now. Hoping they at least let him get some rest. What about you? How are you doing?” Mabel was quickly saddened. “Are your parents still assholes?”

Pacifica glanced down nervously, and Mabel soon realized that Grenda and Candy had pulled away and left the two to their privacy. When Pacifica realized they were alone, she uttered, “In a way. Yeah. They are.” She looked up, a look of embarrassment crossing her face as she made sure no one was within earshot to hear her next statement. “How much did Dipper tell you?”

Mabel lowered her voice for Pacifica's sake, “He didn't need to tell me much. I kinda figured it out when you stopped talking to me after a while.”

Pacifica pushed her glasses up further on her nose, concealing her eyes with the shades. “It's been . . . a hard few years.”

Mabel felt sorry for her, quickly stepping closer to offer Pacifica a hand. The teen hesitated, staring at it like she didn't know what to do with the offered palm. Then she slowly took the hand that Mabel offered. Mabel whispered, “Would they let you hang out with us some time?”

Pacifica paused, thinking about her next words. Then she nodded. “They've gotten less strict with that. Mostly because . . . they've given up.”

“How about you come on over now?”

She stalled again before also nodding. She seemed blank in face, but Mabel was certain that if she were looking into her eyes they'd be watering about now. “I'd like to catch up.”

They both smiled this time. “That would be cool.”

:)

“You're holding out on me, Dippingsauce,” Wendy declared when all the others were gone and Bill was elsewhere.

Dipper stiffened. “What do you mean?” He pulled the covers higher without thinking, anxiety welling up. This couldn't be good. What could she mean?

Wendy's grin was sly. “He's not human is he?”

Well, that wasn't the question he'd anticipated. “Um . . . what do you—?”

“Those aren't colored contacts. I've seen some good ones, but,” she pointed at her own pupils, “none with moving pupils.”

Dipper's stomach dropped. “Don't—”

“Dude, it's cool. Just tell me you're safe with him is all I care about.”

Dipper looked down, considering her words for a moment. “I'm not sure.” Well, he was sure he was safe with Bill himself. Mostly. As for the people who were looking for Bill . . ., “It's hard to tell sometimes.”

She looked concerned, but didn't say much else. “Just let me know when things get heavy, man.” She winked at him. “You and Mabs aren't the only monster hunters in town, capiche?”

Dipper nodded, and they both made a motion of zipping their mouths shut simultaneously. He was glad to hear it. He had a distinct fear that things were going to get heavy soon, and he liked knowing he had backup.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are reading One of the World's Unseen, I would like to take a moment and direct you to some beautiful art dragonfangz did of the story. I'm so honored you have no idea. I literally did a 180 and wound up upside down when I saw one and actually screamed over the other. I am so grateful.
> 
> Lookit!
> 
> http://dragonfangz.tumblr.com/post/112726109249
> 
> http://dragonfangz.tumblr.com/post/112167833994/sooooo-i-read-a-little-story-and-got-carried
> 
> 1marchingidiot also did art for The Ghost of You it Keeps Me Awake. Lookatthisshit!
> 
> http://1marchingidiot.tumblr.com/post/108521642310/love-me-love-me-love-me-more-and-more-love
> 
> http://teaforascripturient.tumblr.com/post/108076610417/so-apparently-i-wasnt-following-you-weird

“What exactly constitutes a maiming?”

“What?”

“I'm just curious. I wanna be prepared.”

Bill kept a hand on the human's lower back, as they headed upstairs. After a long day of visitations, Dipper was tired enough that his eyelids were drooping. That didn't necessarily stop him from talking, though. “Use your imagination, Pine tree.”

“I'm trying. It's not working.” Once in the room, the demon was certain the teen might have collapsed if not for the pain that would result. “I keep coming up with snappy comebacks to your threats but none of them work if I don't know what you mean.”

The demon squinted at him. Was he serious? “You've been thinking of smartass comments this whole time?”

“I'm slow, okay?”

Bill shook his head, covering his face with one hand as he helped Pine tree lower himself into bed with the other. He chuckled at the human before sliding in to lie beside him. Pulling sheets up over Dipper, he murmured, “You're hilarious, is what you are.”

“Go ahead. Laugh a little harder, why don't you?” the human grumbled bitterly as blood rushed to his cheeks. 

“I would if it weren't so sad.” Slipping his arm under Dipper's head, he nuzzled the teen's neck and pressed a kiss to its side. He felt the hum that escaped Dipper against his lips and it took all of his strength not to nip at the sensitive skin of the human's throat just to see if he could make him vocalize again. Bill really wanted to hear him make that noise again. “I want to bite—”

“No,” Dipper cut him off almost immediately.

Bill thought he actually might pout. That wasn't right, being so close to the kid and yet not being able to just . . . said kid had a point. Running his tongue along the points of his teeth, he offered, “I'll be gentle.”

“If this is the maiming you promised, it's too soon. No.” 

His eyes are already sliding closed, but Bill still persists. Only this time, he cups the side of the human's face and tilts his head into a series of brief kisses. Between kisses he asks things like, “Please?” and “Just one?” as his leg moves up to drape over Dipper's, body pressing closer to the human's.

He actually laughs as Dipper reaches up to put a hand over Bill's mouth. He grunts as he pushes the demon back slightly and mumbles, “No,” again. There's a smile though, one the demon most certainly doesn't miss.

“You should feel lucky I even asked,” Bill jested before pressing his lips to Dipper's neck again. Ah, there it was: the hum. He buries his lips against the teen's neck, settling with just kissing for the time being. Dragging his lips over the thin layer of flesh, he wanted to run his hand up and down the human's body just to feel Dipper beside him. This was the first time the human's injury proved to be seriously inconvenient, as it had actually done well in forcing them together up until this point. Moaning at the latest hum to pass through Pine tree's lips, Bill asked, “Still good, right?”

Dipper nodded, then added, “Not too much more, okay?”

The teen's eyes opened slightly when he felt the demon's grin against his skin. “Just a little more, then.” 

Then Bill opened his mouth and began suckling the human's soft flesh and suddenly Dipper's eyes shot wide. “No teeth. No teeth!” were the first words out of the teen's mouth before his face heated up and his body tensed. He let out a whimper that turned into quiet moans as Bill heeded Pine tree's request, bruising the skin without the help of his fangs. He ran his tongue over the mark he was leaving, marveling at the way the human slowly relaxed beside him. Small whines left Dipper as he stopped struggling. His hand came up to cover the one on his face, Bill quickly rotating his palm so his fingers could lace with Dipper's. There was a soft moan before Pine tree conceded, “One bite. I reserve the right to punch you if you bite too hard.”

“Don't encourage me to misbehave,” he growled out before sinking his fangs into Dipper's neck. The human's mouth fell open, but only a squeak came out as the demon stopped his pursuit just before he punctured the skin between his teeth.

The human's eyes squeezed shut as he fought to breathe. His back started to arch and Bill was already pulling away by the time Pine tree gasped out, “Sto-stop.” Bill kissed the kid's cheek before settling down and staring at the bruise he'd left, pleased with how brilliant the mark was. “Thanks,” Pine tree began, huffing between words, “for not taking advantage of me like this.”

Bill's grin turned devious. “It's no fun if you can't struggle.”

Dipper scoffed, rubbing his face with his free hand. “I should be more worried than I am.”

“Maybe. Then again, maybe not.” His thumb caressed the human's hand as he added, “Having you agree with and like me might prove more useful than I anticipated.”

Dipper opened his eyes specifically to roll them at the demon. “Don't date me because I'm useful. Jesus!”

Bill chuckled at the flush on the human's cheeks before kissing his cheek again. “You suspicious little dork,” he cooed before pressing his lips to Dipper's again. The teen relaxed, responding pleasantly to the touch.

Then they were interrupted. “God, what part of secret do the two of you not get? How much more obvious can you be?”

Dipper turned his head and broke off the kiss, sighing out, “This is our room, Mabel. It's as close to private as we can get.”

“Still, what if Grunkle Stan had decided to check on us?” Her eyes narrowed on Bill, the demon's eyes almost narrowing back just for good measure. “Did you give my brother a hickey?”

Dipper's hand slapped over his neck, covering the mark before his eyes went wide. “What?!”

Mabel snorted. “Oh my God, you prude!” She covered her mouth, snickering as Dipper stared frightened up at Bill. “Don't worry, I don't think anything's transmittable unless he made you bleed.” Dipper shrank beneath the blankets then, groaning as he pulled and pushed the covers over his head. “By the way, the girls are downstairs. I'll probably chill with them a while.” She added, “And Pacifica's here too.

Pine tree emerged from the covers just enough to look at Mabel. “Pacifica? Really?”

His twin nodded. “She wanted to know if you were doing alright. I figured you'd be too tired to chat though.”

He nodded. “I probably would've been asleep if not for him,” he pointed to Bill, and the demon took his turn to snort and roll his eyes.

“Get some sleep. She'll see you later.”

Dipper nodded as his sister left. He and Bill settled back down and before the demon knew it, the kid was drifting off with his hand still entwined with Bill's. The demon found himself smiling again. His Pine tree. 

He wasn't quite used to thinking of Dipper Pines as his. He had at least a little time to get used to it.

:)

Pacifica looked uneasy with Grenda and Candy at first. In fact, Mabel was almost certain she'd prefer the company of her sleeping brother to the two. It seemed to take all of her strength not to beg for a cloth to clean off the makeshift coffee table/gigantic skull she was trying to sit comfortably on. She held her purse in her lap and hadn't taken her shoes or coat off. She seemed ready to bolt at any moment.

But she didn't. She sat and tried to join in on their talk of boys (and girls) and fashion and whatever else seemed a good topic at the moment. The plus side was that Grenda and Candy tried to be as welcoming as they could while still being themselves. “Wanna pet my chameleon?” Grenda asked, holding out her lizard, whose eyes darted about nervously.

Pacifica actually looked like she might turn green. “No thanks. I'll pass.” At that the lizard crawled back up Grenda's arm, slowly making its way to her shoulder. Pacifica glanced at the pig by Mabel's side, recognizing Waddles. “He's the one you won at the fair, right?”

Mabel nodded proudly. “Still a lively one, right little guy?” Only if Mabel were truthful, Waddles wasn't so little anymore. It was a miracle she could still hoist him up under her arm, really. The one consolation to that was she could undoubtedly beat her brother in an arm wrestle. She should feel ashamed. She best her twin both physically and magically. She gasped. “Wanna see some magic, guys?”

“Sure,” Grenda and Candy agreed delightfully. Taking a deep breath, Mabel cleared her mind before muttering a few of the words she recalled. Holding up one finger as she recited the last syllable, a flame flickered above her fingertip. Candy gasped while Grenda gawked. 

Turning to Pacifica to show the girl, she found herself blushing under the scrutiny of her gaze. “Where on earth did you learn that?” she asked before reaching out to touch the flame. When she did, she drew back her hand quickly before it could burn her. Her eyes widened as she looked Mabel over with surprise and a new found respect that made Mabel fluster even harder.

“A creepy old man taught me,” she answered honestly.

“Yeah, and he better never see you showing off,” came the gruff voice of Grunkle Stan from the living room's doorway. “Don't practice in front of your friends. You might blow something up on accident.” He eyed Pacifica before saying, “Nice to see the Northwest who sucks less than the others again. How you doing, kid?”

“I'm okay,” she said, scratching the back of her head nervously.

“You kids behave. Don't disturb your brother.” Grunkle Stan started to walk away before backtracking and squinting at Mabel. “Where's our 'honored guest?'” If he could have sounded anymore perturbed with Bill's presence, the demon's ears would have been on fire.

Mabel felt her stomach drop as she answered quietly and slowly, “Also sleeping.”

“He is?” She nodded, trying not to seem nervous. “In y'all's room?” She nodded again. “You're not gonna make him join this little affair of yours so he won't pester your brother?”

“He and I made a deal—”

“A deal?” Grunkle Stan's eyes narrowed further, voice raising a little.

It was really difficult to lie convincingly when he was picking apart her every word. “We had a simple agreement,” she emphasized the last two words, “that the two of them would get some rest while I hang out with some friends.” For additional flavor, she held up her hands and declared, “They kind of partied hard with Wendy and the gang anyway.”

Grunkle Stan seemed to accept that, but only just. “If you say so.” Then he slid out of frame, eyes not leaving Mabel until he disappeared completely into the hallway.

When they were sure he wasn't eavesdropping any longer, Candy muttered, “That was intense.”

“You have a guest?” Pacifica asked.

“Is he cute?” Grenda asked loudly.

Mabel double checked that Grunkle Stan wasn't listening by leaning out in the hallway to see. Good. He really wasn't. Then she repeated the fabrication, “He's a friend from out of town,” before turning to Grenda and narrowing her eyes, “and you are taken, young lady! And by royalty, no less!”

Grenda twirled her hair, which was much longer now, and grinned happily, “I know, but I can still appreciate art when its presented to me.”

“Really, Mabel. Is he cute?” Candy asked, wide-eyed and grinning wildly.

As cute as a pointy triangle turned sharp-toothed human can be, she guessed. Shrugging, she admitted in a whisper, “Kinda, but he's off limits really.”

“Off limits how?” Pacifica asked. It wasn't strange to see that jealous look in her eye, in fact it was almost expected given the situation. But Mabel was taken aback by the subject that had incurred such a look.

She opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut and started rubbing the back of her head. For such a big secret, she'd been crap at keeping it lately. All of Dipper's friends knew. What was really the harm in telling hers? Then she looked at them and remembered just who she was hanging out with. Dipper's friends were chill. They said nothing to anyone outside of their circle. Mabel knew her friends would run shouting through the house about something like this because usually she'd be the one leading the train of screaming girls. It was probably best to keep this from them. But what could she possibly say?

Her lips were moving before she had come up with a better explanation than, “He's _much_ older than he looks.”

Pacifica still looked like she didn't fully believe her (neither did Mabel, really), but Grenda and Candy scoffed at the excuse as Candy said, “We're just gonna ogle him, not jump his bones!”

“Wouldn't wanna scare the guy, now,” Grenda played back.

Mabel shifted around uncomfortably, wanting so badly to tell them that Dipper would probably feel incredibly insecure if they did that and Bill responded. Let's face it, she thought to herself, Bill would eat the attention up. It's just a known fact. Meanwhile Dipper would fall into his typical routine of self-loath and deprecation. “The thing is guys,” she held up her hands, trying to reason with them, “he's very flirty. It's really inappropriate.”

“Since when have you cared about appropriate?” Grenda asked.

“Are you hitting that, Mabel?” Candy asked. Both Mabel and Pacifica looked mortified at the question.

Before Mabel could refute the suggestion, Grenda grabbed her own face and screeched, “You are!”

“Ew, no!” Mabel declared loudly, going completely red. She shuddered at the thought. Just . . . no! “He's a friend. That's it.” She didn't even want to imagine him looking at her the way he did Dipper. It was downright scary and . . . oh dear God, suddenly it made sense why Dipper panicked about it so often. She shuddered again, reminding herself to hug and apologize to her brother as soon as she was able to. “I'm not dating him, don't be silly. Why would anyone be dating him? Who would be so ridiculous—?”

“You're rambling,” Grenda pointed out. 

“Someone's lying,” Candy drew out the second word, emphasizing it while Pacifica's glare intensified and Mabel's face grew redder.

Her palm hit her face hard enough that she reminded herself of her brother. Leaning back out into the hallway again, there was still no sign of Grunkle Stan. Opening her mouth to speak, she was cut off when Pacifica asked, “He's your brother's boyfriend, isn't he?”

If Candy and Grenda had looked astonished before, they were in utter awe at the idea now. God, Mabel hated herself suddenly. Lowering her voice to a barely audible whisper, she begged, “Please don't say anything. Grunkle Stan will kill me.”

They collectively furrowed their brows at that. “Why?” Pacifica asked.

“Because,” shit, she hadn't really thought this through had she? “Because he doesn't approve and he thinks I'm the one who set it up.”

“Doesn't approve? Is it because they're two guys?” Grenda asked.

Mabel shook her head. That was a complicated subject to broach, but it certainly wasn't that. “It's because,” Bill is an all powerful demon who once possessed Dipper and threatened the end of the world, “of the age gap.”

Grenda and Candy understood. Pacifica's glare disappeared and Mabel wondered what had brought it on in the first place. If she didn't know any better, she'd say Pacifica was jealous over Dipper. That would make sense if she continued being upset after the explanation of the situation.

As it was, they went back to discussing other goings-on and the conversation proceeded normally. They were laughing about something Waddles did when the 'honored guest' as Grunkle Stan had put it walked past the door frame and caught the attention of just about everyone in the room. The girls fell silent, Grenda and Candy waiting patiently for the demon to reemerge from the kitchen. Meanwhile Pacifica's eyes darted from Mabel's face of panic to the doorway. Oh Jesus, this had to be the only time she was actually afraid of what her friends might say and it looked like Pacifica knew exactly how she felt.

When Bill passed by again, he had the remnants of the milkshakes she'd made earlier and a bag of chips. He stopped for a moment, as if realizing for the first time they were there. His eyes locked with Grenda and Candy momentarily before he whispered, “Oh no,” like he was recalling a particular event where he'd been a reverend in a different body. If Mabel hadn't been certain before, she was certain now more than ever that they'd done something to scar him during that show. “Shooting star, your scary friends are looking at me funny.” He uttered the words like they wouldn't be able to hear him.

“It's okay, just go back upstairs and don't eat my brother.”

Bill's typical smirk returned at that as he declared, “He threatened me with Doritos. It would only be poetic justice.” Then he was gone.

And as soon as he walked away, the shrieking started and Mabel and Pacifica were thrown off their seats by it.


	14. Chapter 14

Pacifica stayed longer than the others, and Mabel was actually glad of it. In the midst of all the chaos over Bill, she hadn't really gotten to ask the blonde much about herself. However, she wasn't nearly as forthcoming and open as Mabel was used to. Not from her necessarily, but Grenda and Candy weren't exactly ones to keep secrets from one another. Mabel guessed she could understand Pacifica's preference for being closed off, however.

“Come on,” Mabel declared, pulling Pacifica up off the skull she was sitting uncomfortably on.

The older girl hesitated, but followed as she asked, “Where are you taking me?”

“To Dipper's thinking spot. You'll probably be more comfortable outside than inside.” Judging by the way Pacifica cringed over the smallest sign of dirt on the walls, Mabel suddenly wasn't so sure. She proceeded anyway.

“I'm not so sure I—”

“We're going on the roof,” Mabel clarified. “So you don't have to worry about being see at the Mystery Shack. Just like all dumb people in a terrifying place like Gravity Falls, very few tend to look up in case of monsters.” Pacifica covered her mouth and snorted a little, but very quickly looked down and adopted a more reserved expression once they reached the ladder in the now empty shop. Climbing up quickly, Mabel flopped down onto one of the chairs on the roof and flipped the lid of the cooler. She handed a can of Pitt-cola to Pacifica as soon as the blonde was up and sitting in the chair beside her. She still didn't recline as much as Mabel, back staying straight and posture so proper it was completely and utterly out of place. Mabel didn't comment though. She simply said, “See what I mean?” She gestured out at the property as she continued, “No one can see us, and it's a much nicer view than the living room!” She shrugged. “Same amount of dirt, though.”

“It,” Pacifica stopped, staring out at the view Mabel was sharing with her as she opened the can of soda, “looks really nice.” She gave Mabel a genuine look of appreciation. “It really does.” Sipping the soda daintily, she drew her legs up onto the chair. Still sitting with almost immaculate posture, Pacifica glanced around and looked a little more at ease with her surroundings. Staring at the can in her hand, she shifted it from palm to palm as she added, “I don't mean to still look ashamed to be here. I've been trying to work on that.”

Mabel shrugged again. “Old habits are hard to break, huh?” Pacifica nodded, and Mabel couldn't help imagining that the girl still cringed at the sound of a bell. The thought saddened her, and made her want to march up to her parents and demand an apology on her behalf. Instead, Mabel decided to ask, “How have you really been?” Pacifica looked up, expression bemused. “You keep saying you're okay or some derivative of that, but you never really answer. Do you not want to talk about it?”

Pacifica opened her mouth like she wanted to, like she was desperate to share something with her. Then she closed it again, eyes squeezing shut as she struggled to figure out just what she was going to say. If she did say anything. Mabel really hoped she trusted her enough to say something. “I don't,” she paused, again clamping her mouth shut before letting out a breath of air and readying herself to explain again. “I don't think you were here when my parents kicked me out of the house.”

The teen had to fight the urge to gasp. Managing to maintain a somewhat neutral face so her reactions didn't discourage Pacifica, she said, “I didn't know. What happened?”

Pacifica sighed. “Things got much more difficult after the ghost in the mansion incident. If you ask them, they'll tell you I got unruly and rebellious.” She kept her eyes on the can of cola, running a finger along the aluminum rim. “That wasn't so bad. They just . . . had me locked in my room more often than before. I started to like it better that way.”

She stopped after a moment, prompting Mabel to ask, “But what led to you getting kicked out?”

The other girl slumped a little, breaking that posture she'd so carefully maintained up until that point. Hands gripping the soda, she said, “It wasn't so much kicked out as . . . made to move out sooner. I have my own flat in town, and the independence is actually nice but,” she bit her lip and shut her eyes. With a deep breath, she said, “I told them something that made them not want to be associated with me.” And then she was leaning back in the chair, forcing herself to breathe normally as she stared at her hands and drink. She looked so sad, and all Mabel wanted to do was give her a hug really. Somehow, she couldn't see Pacifica being receptive to that show of affection in this situation. “Mom still won't even look at me. Dad . . . he tries to keep in touch, but it's obvious he's ashamed. He's been that way for a while now.”

Mabel scooted her chair closer, lowering her voice and asking seriously, “Did you do drugs?”

Pacifica scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Are you kidding? They practically begged me to do drugs instead!” She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Said that would probably 'end the phase,'” she made air quotes with one hand.

The brunette perked up, recognizing the phrasing almost immediately. “So you came out of the closet.”

The blonde's glare in response to the observation actually hurt her. “That's not funny.”

“I'm not laughing.” Pacifica's look softened, but she still looked stiff and defensive. So Mabel decided to give her some reassurance that she wasn't going to pick on her over this. “My parents weren't very happy with me either when I came out.”

Pacifica's eyes widened and Mabel could see her defenses crack. “What?”

“My brother and I had to do it side-by-side. He didn't say or do anything, just stood there holding my arm. Still, I don't think I would have been able to tell them without him there.” She neglected to mention the fact that she was also coming out on his behalf as well. That was for Dipper to discuss, not her. “They didn't talk about it for about a week.” Well, they didn't address her at least. Dipper bore the brunt of the initial scoldings and inquiries, and that drove both twins up the wall. “When they finally did, they accused me of being wishy-washy and riding the fence.” She snorted. “Said I needed to pick a side and stay there.”

“That's awful.” Seeing Pacifica look authentically sorry for her threw Mabel for a loop. “And now?”

“They mostly ignore it.” Unless Mabel or Dipper decide to wear something their parents deemed inappropriate or unladylike. “Mostly,” she reiterated. “We've considered moving to Gravity Falls permanently. Grunkle Stan's a lot more supportive, which was a surprise our first summer here.”

Pacifica's features softened as she gave a small smile. “That's great.” Then her brow furrowed. “You knew that early?”

“Pfft! We knew when we were little!” She took a swig of her soda, then held up a finger. “About me, I mean.” That wasn't the whole truth, but it was the only truth Pacifica needed to know. She looked for a subject to change to, now that she could see Pacifica was more comfortable on this one. She asked, “You said you liked being independent?”

Pacifica nodded, her smile radiant. “I'm practically living on my own on my savings account.” Mabel could only imagine the amount of money in a Northwest savings account. “Dad still puts some money in every other month, keeping up with that whole desire to maintain a connection.” She looked sad for a moment. “I guess he still expects me to take over the wealth, provided I show back up and promise to do things his way. I think he thought forcing me to be on my own would make me see that I had it better at home.”

“Has it?”

She shook her head, shrugging as she made eye contact with Mabel. “I'm still in a secure place. Just not with them. I like it better this way.” She sighed. “Still, there's that impending sense that he could rip the rug out from under me at any moment.”

“That sounds more like the point he's trying to get across.”

“Yeah. He didn't want the town to see him throw me out and start asking why. It would tarnish the Northwest name.” The last sentence bore the bite of sarcasm. “It would be easier to pass it off as 'teaching the child a lesson in responsibility' this way. He looks great, giving me this much freedom. I look like an upstart.”

Mabel squinted. “I don't think you look like an upstart.” Then her grin turned so mischievous it made Bill's look small. “Although I could certainly _help_ you embarrass him without getting you really thrown out.”

Pacifica's eyes narrowed on Mabel for a moment. Then she turned to sit on her side so she could face Mabel. “What do you mean?”

Mabel set down her soda and held up a finger. Launching herself up and through the hatch, she slid down the ladder and into the shop. Grunkle Stan was behind the register when she ran over to a particular shelf and grabbed a certain blue and white hat. Waving at her great uncle, she declared, “Take this off my next check!” and she could have sworn she had never climbed a ladder so fast. Once back on the roof, she flopped down on her seat before a bewildered Pacifica and proceeded to tuck her hair up onto her head before covering it with the cap. Her hair was so thick she was a little afraid she wouldn't be able to pull it off. When she did, though, she held out her arms and cried out, “Tada!” before doing her best Dipper impression and saying, “Feel my sweater.” Pacifica, still bewildered, furrowed her brow and did as Mabel said. “Know what that is?” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “Boyfriend material.”

It took a moment for the joke to sink in, but suddenly Pacifica dropped her soda and clapped both hands over her mouth. “Are you serious?!”

“Deadly!” Mabel marveled at her own ability to sound like her brother.

Pacifica withheld the laughs successfully before reaching down to pick up the can she'd dropped. “I'm sorry,” she muttered between laughs, face still red. “I didn't mean to make a mess.”

“It's okay, it's just a roof,” Mabel reassured as she touched Pacifica's shoulder and encouraged her not to try and clean up the spilled Pitt-cola. “It's not like it isn't already a mess.”

Pacifica settled back into her chair, gaze mirthful as she asked, “So what exactly is this plan of yours?”

“Simple! I pretend to be your boyfriend Dipper,” she held a hand up to her mouth and stage whispered, “if you can stomach the thought of dating my brother.”

Pacifica shook her head. “I'll try and live with it.”

“Word gets around town, and your parents will think one of two things.” She ticked off one finger, “Thought one: 'oh dear Heavens please date anyone else.'” Another finger, “Thought two: 'that's a decent enough young man, granted a worthless peasant. At least it's a man.'”

“I love how you assume I'm a lesbian.”

“Or bi, ace, pan, what have you. No matter what, they'll be happier to see you with someone seemingly male because that's what they're programmed to desire.”

“Now they sound like robots.”

“Better than them sounding like monsters.” Both smiled. “And I've dealt with monsters honey.” Significantly, she'd had to deal with one monster in particular a lot lately. “So what do you say?”

Pacifica rubbed the side of her face, actually considering the idea. “They're more likely to go with thought one.”

“Uh huh?”

“But if thought two happens, then what? I don't think Dipper's boyfriend would like—”

“Are you kidding? This level of shenanigans is his favorite thing. Dipper and Bill will gladly be in on it.”

Pacifica pondered, then nodded. “There are still so many holes! What if they like the thought of me dating Dipper? They'll find out you're not him eventually!”

“But their faces will be priceless!” She took on a more serious tone for the next part. “But they'll also see you put forth the effort to look semi-normal for their sake.” She glanced up, thinking. “As much as anyone in Gravity Falls can be normal.”

“Or they'll call us both even bigger freaks.”

“Then are they really worth pleasing?” Pacifica looked upset at the question, so Mabel immediately backtracked. “I'm sorry. That was a bit harsh on them.”

Pacifica stopped, then nodded. “Thanks but . . . you're also right.” She inhaled loudly and looked up, eyes almost sad and mistrusting. “You would really do this for me? You would . . . pretend to be my girlfriend—”

“Boyfriend.”

“Right. You'd pretend to be my boyfriend to try and . . . I don't know, win over or test my parents?”

“Anything for a friend,” Mabel declared, reaching across and taking Pacifica's hand in hers.

Pacifica stared at their joined palms, cheeks flushing momentarily as Mabel also felt her own face heating up. The blonde hesitated before speaking again, then nodded as if confirming something with herself. “Let's do it.”

“Yes!” Mabel pumped her free hand into the air. “We'll think of it as a social experiment. How soon do you want a first date?”

Pacifica, while slightly overwhelmed by Mabel's enthusiasm, smiled and proceeded to plan with her anyway.

:)

Dipper woke up to the sound of Mabel dancing cheerfully into the room, clutching his hat in her hands. Only he could tell it wasn't his hat. It was too new looking to be his. He also woke up to a very clingy demon wrapping himself around Dipper's body without putting weight on his still sore torso. Peering over Bill as much as he could, he saw Mabel lie down on her bed with a sigh. “Is there something you should tell me?” he asked, because he was suddenly very concerned over why she was dancing with a duplicate of his hat.

“I'm stealing your identity for a bit to go on a few dates with Pacifica Northwest.”

Dipper squinted. “You're dating Pacifica?”

“No, technically you are!”

Dipper's eyes widened. “Explain.” After hearing a brief rundown of the plan she had concocted, he hadn't quite lost the wide-eyed expression. When his twin finally finished explaining (while the demon remained fast asleep beside him), he commented a little louder than intentional, “That's the most convoluted plan you've come up with to get someone to go out with you.”

“It's not actually dating. Don't be silly!”

“Sounds like actual dating to me.” Then he remembered just who was clinging to him at the moment and a tremor of concern washed over him. “How are you gonna break this whole scheme to him?” he nodded towards his boyfriend (oh Jesus, was he really blushing over thinking of Bill as his boyfriend?).

“You tell him.”

Dipper sputtered. “No! This is your grand heist, so you tell him.”

“He's your boy. You're tell him.”

Jesus, he wished his face weren't so red. “He's gonna eat me if I do it. You have to tell him.” It was a miracle Bill wasn't waking up to comment on this plan of Mabel's to begin with.

Mabel paused for a long time. “I used to wonder why you were so obsessed with this idea that he might eat you, but knowing Bill . . .,” he would. They were both thinking it. So she proceeded with, “I'll break it to him gently.” Which meant that the news was going to hit him like a sledgehammer, because Mabel knew only the definition of the word 'gently' and was completely incapable of putting the definition into practice. “Do you really think he'd get that jealous?”

He honestly didn't know, but he didn't want to find out. “I'm not going to answer—”

“Yes.” The word was whispered against his collarbone, and Dipper stiffened and eyed his sister across the room. Mabel's eyes went wide, and he could see her trying to hide whatever her mouth was trying to do. He wasn't sure if that was a frown or grin trying to crawl across her face, but he was certainly feeling the pressure in his stomach building when he felt the demon's hands tighten on his skin where they were resting.

And then Mabel went and opened her goddamn mouth. “Well if he eats you, try to enjoy it a little.”

“Mabel!” he shouted, and Bill snickered fiendishly as he clutched Dipper.

:)

As the night proceeded and her twin calmed down from the joke she'd pulled, Dipper asked her again if this was just an excuse to get Pacifica to date her.

“No, dork! She's my friend. She's your friend too, so we're doing her a favor.”

“Uh huh,” he uttered wearily. “Whatever you do, don't lie awake thinking about her all night.”

“Oh please. You're the only one who does that.” She rolled over in her bed before amending that statement. “Bill too, actually. Whoops!”

“What?” She ignored her brother's startled question, instead electing to close her eyes and let him stew in that thought.

Three hours later, her eyes were open again and she actually had been thinking of blonde hair, purple eyeshadow, and the shape of the girl's hips. She'd had no idea how often she'd stared at them. Enough to memorize their curve, she supposed. Enough for her to quietly mouth, “Oh no,” to herself.


	15. Chapter 15

“Alright, let's try this again,” Dipper declared, experiencing some major dejavu as he packed his knapsack with empty jars and Tupperware containers. A few weeks after the attack, he was moving comfortably and breathing easily again. When he looked around to pack the book as well, still dogeared from the last attempt to gather the materials he needed, Bill entered the kitchen with said book under his arm. Dipper squinted at Bill. “If you think you're coming with me—”

“I am. Sister and great uncle approved.”

Dipper glared at the doorway where Mabel came to stand. He still had to blink twice when he saw that she was wearing his clothes, hair tucked haphazardly underneath the newer cap. They actually did look identical when she dressed like that. “Really Mabel? You _and_ Stan?”

“It's safer that way, bro bro.” He really couldn't argue that fact, but he was uneasy all the same. Mabel reached under her shirt to adjust the binder she was wearing. She let out a gasp, which was quickly followed by the snap of the material into place. “How did you get used to this? Seriously.”

“I just did.” He was also flatter than she was.

“I swear, this is the one part of the plan that's gonna kill me.”

He had half a mind to tell her to suck it up and deal since this was her idea to begin with. He couldn't though. He'd watched her come back from each date dancing and happy and he was wondering how awkward it was going to be when Pacifica realized just how giddy his twin got over her. Mabel could say it was just a favor for a friend all she wanted, but he knew. He knew she knew that wasn't true too. He could see it when Pacifica came over and Mabel just stared longingly at her without even realizing she was doing it. 

Popping the binder again, Dipper blinked as she reminded him of something. “When are you gonna give me back my other binder?”

“Soon.”

“How about now since I'm going outside?” Irritation over not knowing where she had even hidden it mounted then. “You know I'm not comfortable leaving the house without it.”

“You're just going into the woods, and I don't want you damaging your ribs again already,” she reasoned, still fiddling with the binder she'd at least asked to borrow from him. “I don't trust you to keep to a healthy schedule.”

“What I do with my binder is my business, now give it back,” Dipper growled.

“So you can sleep in it again?” Dipper glared at her. “Oh yeah, I knew about that.”

He took a deep breath and walked over to the medicine cabinet. Opening it up, he pulled a roll of ace bandage from the second shelf. Reaching into one of the bottom drawers, he pulled out some duct tape. Holding them up for Mabel to see, he said, “No complaints from the peanut gallery then, I presume.”

“Oh hell no!” Suddenly his twin was barreling into him, grabbing at the items he held with an iron grip. He turned away from her, clutching both tape and bandage to his chest as he leaned over the counter away from her. Meanwhile, she was trying to reach around and pry them from his hands. “Don't you even think about it!”

“Give it back then!”

“Drop the goods!”

“Give it back!”

“Hey hey! Cut it out!” Dipper breathed a sigh of relief as something hit the kitchen table with a thud and Bill proceeded to pull Mabel off of him. “Didn't we just establish we wanted undamaged ribs or something?”

“Okay okay,” Mabel said, holding her hands up in surrender as Dipper pushed himself off the counter. Still clutching the rolls of wrap, he watched as Bill slowly released his sister to pick the book that he'd dropped on the table back up. “I wasn't hurting him,” she grumbled. His shoulders started to relax and some of the tension seeped from Dipper. That is, until she lurched towards him again with curled fingers and cried, “Drop them!” as she tickled his sides.

“No!” he screamed, small fits of laughter escaping as his body jerked away from her fingers. “Stop!” he shouted, but she refused. He held the items tighter, unwilling to relinquish his leverage over her. “Mabel, quit—!”

“Goddammit, I can barely stand one of you!” Grunkle Stan bellowed as he entered the kitchen. This time it was Stan who pulled Mabel off of Dipper, and immediately following the separation he smacked the bills of their hats downward over their eyes. Meanwhile the demon stood back and just watched. “For Christ's sake, why didn't you just give him the damn thing?”

“He only just started feeling better,” she uttered as they both adjusted their hats. “I didn't—”

“Kid, I get it.” Grunkle Stan reached on top of the refrigerator for a Folger's container, unscrewing the lid as he said, “But if he's gonna bind, he had better do it safely.” He pulled the familiar looking article of clothing from the container and handed it to Dipper, who immediately set aside the duct tape and ace bandage to hug the thing. Before he could run off to put it back on, his great uncle poked a finger in his face and said, “If I hear about you sleeping in it again, I'm gonna kick your ass. Got it?”

Dipper gave Mabel a pointed scowl for telling Stan, then sighed. “Got it.”

“The three of you don't get into any more trouble.” He started to walk out of the kitchen, stopping and pinching the bridge of his nose in the doorway. “I almost had an aneurysm the last time.” Mabel and Dipper exchanged guilty expressions before returning to getting ready. They were cut short once more, halting just outside the kitchen as they heard Grunkle Stan mutter to Bill like they couldn't hear him, “And if you assault my nephew in any way, I can and will kill you.”

Bill said nothing, and this time the looks the twins exchanged resembled a mix of concern and fear. Moving on with their plans, Mabel ducked into the living room to grab something. Then she headed for the door as he headed for the bathroom to change. He called after her while still in earshot, “Enjoy your date.”

Her response was filled with mirth, all evidence of the previous conflict gone as she replied, “Enjoy _your_ date.” He heard Bill chuckle and Dipper suddenly felt hot and not as ready to get out of the shack as before.

:)

She had gotten better at maintaining her brother's deeper voice, and had even perfected the cracking that still occurred despite Dipper's best efforts. Every time her voice cracked, though, Pacifica burst out laughing at the accuracy. To hear her laugh felt incredibly rare to Mabel, so she relished in the sound as much as she could and even looked for ways to make her laugh. When they were somewhere private, however, they broke character and talked about the way people stared at them.

“You know, I haven't had this much attention since that first fight with my parents,” Pacifica whispered as they waited for the movie to start. Seated in the very back of the theater where no one could eavesdrop on their conversation and sipping their drinks, they could see people's heads turning to catch a glimpse of them.

“I haven't felt this dorky since elementary school.” Pacifica covered her mouth, stifling the laughter as much as she could. “Let's face it: he's a dork.”

“Yeah.” Pacifica sobered up from the mirth quickly, her smile faltering. “A dork with a real live boyfriend.”

Mabel tapped her fingers together, wanting to say something but knowing better. Her cheeks felt warm as she offered, “You know you could have any boy,” she stopped, “or girl you want, right?”

Pacifica shrugged. “But would they want me?”

Mabel's brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Most people only like me because of my name. They don't care about me.” She shook her head. “They barely noticed when I left and barely notice me now.”

The sadness in Pacifica's gaze struck Mabel in the chest and evoked a determination in her that she wouldn't ignore. Moving her drink to the other arm of her seat, she picked up Pacifica's hand and whispered, “I care.”

Pacifica got caught staring at their joined hands again, before sitting upright and watching as more people came to sit closer to them in the theater. Sighing and squeezing Mabel's hand, she gave a false smile for their new 'audience' and said just audibly enough, “Why would I want anyone else when I've got you?” before making a show of leaning on Mabel's shoulder and staring at the premieres as the theater darkened and went quiet.

Mabel's heart jumped up into her throat and sank just as quickly. Slumping in the seat as Pacifica held her hand and rested her head on her shoulder, Mabel actually started berating herself for wishing this was real.

The movie started, but Mabel Pines was focused on anything but what was happening on the screen, or what was happening to her for the matter. After half the movie had passed by without garnering a single reaction from either of them, she had to stop herself from wondering if Pacifica was starting to feel the similarly.

:)

“Okay I'll admit,” Dipper groaned as he put the top on the second to last container, “having you around made this go by a lot quicker.”

“That's because I know everything, Pine tree,” the demon declared as he flipped through to the page bearing the last ingredient they needed. “Been in Gravity Falls longer, know it a helluva lot better than you, kid.”

Says the demon who claimed he got lost his first day trapped in human form. “Yeah yeah, but you still need our help to figure this whole deal out.” He swung the backpack over his shoulder, the bag much heavier now. His feet were starting to hurt and his torso actually was starting to get sore again. He'd gone too long without the binder and would need to work his way back up to wearing it as often as he had previously.

“I don't need it. I just like it.” Dipper rolled his eyes as Bill stopped moving, gaze locked on one particular page. With a snort, he held up the page dedicated to himself and pointed to the emboldened red words decreeing that he shouldn't be summoned at all. “Would've been nice if that bastard had read this beforehand, huh?”

Dipper shrugged. “I doubt he would have heeded it anyway.” Pressing onward, he once again became hyper aware of how close Bill stayed to him. He should be used to it by now, as they'd been sleeping in the same bed ever since that first night. He should be used to a hand on his lower back, or an arm around his shoulders. He should be used to the heat of the demon's touch or the way his pupils went in and out rapidly sometimes when Bill looked at Dipper. He should be used to all of this, but he still jumped a little every time Bill ran a hand over his skin.

Case in point, he felt a tremor go through him as soon as a large, warm palm slid over the back of his neck to brush the hair sticking out from under his hat. He settled only slightly as the demon's fingertips carded through the exposed locks, nails tracing patterns into Dipper's skin. When Bill started chuckling, he knew his face must have turned beet red. The overly affectionate gesture made him tremble, and he started to feel a high pitched noise attempting to escape his miraculously sealed lips. It wasn't that he didn't like the fondness Bill showed, really, because this actually felt really good. Despite not liking being touched in general, this was something he had actually started to appreciate from the demon. What made him shake was the fact that he had no idea how to return this show of affection.

“Yeesh, kid,” Bill broke the silence suddenly, hand dropping as he continued thumbing through the book.

“What?”

“I don't even need to be in your head to know when you're thinking too hard. Careful. You might cause a short in your circuitry.”

Dipper let out a breath and rolled his eyes again. “How long till we find the . . . whatever kind of flower it is?”

“It's gonna be near a dead body. I don't know about you, but I haven't put any dead bodies out here lately.”

Well that was mighty pleasant of him. Exhaling loudly and exasperatedly, he asked, “How bad do we need that thing?”

“It's pretty powerful. Might be able to knock someone dead with a whiff. I'd say you need it.”

He couldn't even begin to explain how badly he didn't want to go looking for a dead body bearing whatever plant this was. Furrowing his brow, he asked, “If it grows on dead things, doesn't that make it a fungus?”

“Fungi aren't the only things attracted to dead objects.”

“Does it necessarily have to be a body? Can't it grow on a dead tree—?”

“What's the matter, Pine tree? Squeamish?” The fanged grin Bill gave him made him shudder all over again. Before he could reply, Bill added, “And yes, it does grow on dead trees. Sometimes.”

Well, that seemed like a better prospect than looking for a dead animal. Moving on, they continued their search.

:)

For the first time, Pacifica decided to invite Mabel back to her flat. Upon entering the place Pacifica now called home, she had to pick her jaw up off the floor at how immaculate it looked. No, it definitely wasn't the Northwest Mansion, but it was still high end and refined. Beautiful artwork combined with furniture that looked to be built more for show than comfort made Mabel gawk for a good two minutes before saying, “Kick me out, Grunkle Stan. Let me live here.”

Fortunately, Pacifica giggled at that. “You should've seen it a few days after I moved in. I had no idea how to clean or do anything, so things got . . . interesting.”

“Did you teach yourself?” Mabel slipped her shoes off at the door, but still felt guilty even walking into the place.

Pacifica scoffed. “Are you kidding? I was on the verge of drinking the chemicals instead of using them.”

“Pacifica, don't—”

“I know.” She shook her head at herself, running a hand over the glass topped island that marked the end of the living room area and the beginning of the kitchen. “That was in bad taste.” Moving to the refrigerator, she opened it as she explained, “Luckily the family butler stopped by on his off time to check in on me.” Pulling out a bottle of something sparkling (Mabel had no clue what it was, but it had bubbles), Pacifica took two glasses from one of the cabinets and started to pour them some. “He helped me a lot, taught me how to clean, shop for food, do just about everything I guess normal people would laugh at me for not knowing how to. Didn't show me how to cook, though. That's . . . that's a work in progress.” Storing the bottle once more, she brought the glasses over to Mabel and gestured for her to sit down at the island. Climbing up carefully onto one of the stools, she accepted the glass graciously. “Sometimes I think he's the only one who notices I'm gone.”

“Hey,” Mabel caught her attention, then held up her glass and said, “to hell with them.”

With a small smirk, Pacifica held up hers as well. “To hell with them.” They clinked their glasses together and sipped, Mabel's eyes going wide as she gulped down her sip quickly before coughing a little. Staring at the glass, Pacifica put a hand on her shoulder and asked, “Are you okay?”

“What is this?”

“Chardonnay. You haven't had any before?” Mabel narrowed her eyes for a moment. “That was a dumb question. Jesus, you really do look like Dipper when you give me that look. Please take off the hat.”

Mabel did so, releasing one of the pins in her hair so not all of her hair was trapped on top of her head. Setting the hat on the counter, she asked, “What's a teenager doing with a ready supply of alcohol?”

“I wasn't kidding when I said my parents would rather I do drugs than be out of the closet.” For emphasis, she took another long swig, only stopping when her cell phone started buzzing. Pulling it from her purse, the color drained from her face when she saw who was calling. “It's my dad.”

Mabel stiffened. All she wanted to do was tear the phone from Pacifica's hands and give the man a piece of her mind, but instead she asked, “Do you need me to say something? Do something?”

“I,” Pacifica bit her lip, staring at the still ringing phone with wide eyes. Squeezing her eyes shut and growling, she declared, “I can do this.” With that, she hit the accept button and held the phone to her ear. Stepping out of the room, she answered, “Hello?” before disappearing behind a door and leaving Mabel to worry over what was happening. Minutes passed that felt like hours, and she heard nothing for the majority of them. She started to feel scared for Pacifica, especially when she heard the other girl cry out, “No!” in the most hardened and determined tone Mabel had ever heard come from the girl. Another second passed and she heard again, “I will not!” and Mabel desperately wanted to yell at Pacifica's father. There was one last outburst of, “Fine!” before something hit the wall and Pacifica came bursting from the other end of the flat. Mabel jumped as the older girl grabbed for her glass and downed the rest of the chardonnay. Before she could even ask for Mabel's, Mabel pushed it to her and let her take that too. When she'd drained both glasses and collapsed onto the seat beside Mabel, her hands covered both eyes and she slouched, leaning on the counter with her elbows.

Mabel sat frozen for a moment before hesitantly placing a hand on Pacifica's back. She let the silence drag on for a moment, then quietly asked, “Thought one or two?”

A sniffle reached her ears then and Pacifica answered, “Thought three.” Before Mabel could ask what that was, Pacifica pulled her hands away to wipe at her eyes. Eye shadow and mascara smearing, she clarified with a broken voice, “He doesn't care at all. He just wants me under his thumb, and that means seeing no one but who he wants me to see.” Tears spilled from her eyes as she doubled over. “He doesn't care. No one. Cares.”

“No, that's not true,” Mabel immediately declared, pushing off her stool to stand closer to Pacifica. Wrapping her arms around the blonde's middle, she held on tight. When Pacifica weakly wrapped her arms around her shoulders, face buried against Mabel's hair and neck, Mabel did her best to hold on tighter. “There are people who care.” Pacifica didn't respond and Mabel didn't know what else to do other than to hold onto her and let her get it out.

She couldn't even begin to fathom how to explain how wrong Pacifica was. She couldn't even begin to fathom telling her just how much Mabel Pines cared.

:)

“We are never gonna find this thing,” had just fled Dipper's lips when he felt his phone buzz. Pulling it from his pocket to look at the text, he quickly read aloud, “'Staying at Pacifica's. She needs a trip to Sweater Town.'”

“Is that code for 'I might need some protection' or something?”

Dipper shook his head as he replied to the message with a confirmation he'd received it. “It means something happened.” He found himself worrying for both of them suddenly. When he looked up, he caught Bill giving him a strange look. Squinting, he asked, “What is it?”

Bill raised his eyebrows and turned his head. “Nothing.”

That did not make Dipper relax. “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing.” Dropping the subject, Dipper set down the full backpack and elected to sit for a moment. Bill didn't sit with him, instead flipping through the journal. Dipper was starting to think it was a horrible idea for Grunkle Stan to have put the demon in charge of the journal when Bill muttered, “Would you look at that?” He tapped a portion of the page he was on. “This one's about me.”

Dipper's eyes widened. “Are you . . . reading what I've written?” The demon nodded. “Oh.” He'd forgotten he'd added to that journal. A fluster reached his cheeks as he drew his legs up to his chest. “Um . . . what does it say?”

“Not to chant my name three times in a dark room. I remember that!” He closed the book and waved it happily as Dipper turned his gaze away from the demon. “That was a really fun night.”

“Yeah, one full of nightmares and blinking lights. My favorite thing,” Dipper declared sarcastically, keeping his eyes down.

“Don't forget me yanking the blankets off your legs.”

“Yes, let's not forget that.” Or let's.

“Man, that was fun.” He was proud of himself for not cringing when Bill settled down next to him, putting the journal with the knapsack and leaning into Dipper. “We should do it again sometime when I'm back to my full strength.”

“Or not.” Dipper looked up at his boyfriend, and was taken aback by the look the demon was giving him.

According to the part of him that still had any sense, he should have probably started running at the sight of that sharp grin. Instead he just stared dumbly at Bill as the demon chuckled and said, “I think it's time.”

Dipper's eyes shot wide. “For what?”

“Your maiming.”

“Mai—what?! What did I—?” Dipper couldn't get the rest of the question out because Bill was too busy pulling him roughly onto his lap and bruising his lips with forceful kisses. Dipper was left breathless from the attack, chests slamming together as he slipped into a straddling position and Bill crushed him against the demon. Hands clenched in the demon's shirt as Dipper shot past the trembling phase and dove right into full body shivering. Panicked whimpers burst from his throat, interrupting the kiss enough for him to gasp out anxiously, “Bill—”

“This is payback for the corn chip thing,” Bill hissed before his lips covered Dipper's again. Dipper stiffened, eyes blown wide as the discomfort over the position they were in really started to sink in. He wanted to get off of Bill, wanted Bill to get off of him, but couldn't move with the demon holding him securely in his place. He started whimpering again, and Bill was the one who pulled back this time. His mouth neared Dipper's ear and Dipper grew tense just before the demon started whispering, “It got a little difficult learning your boundaries when someone might walk in on us at any second. Excuse me while I take advantage of our current situation.”

As much as that made sense, this was still the most intense thing they had done together thus far and Dipper was trying very hard not to fret. Fists still wrapped firmly around clumps of Bill's shirt, he was somewhat relieved when he realized Bill wasn't just going to bruise his lips again. His relief continued to grow when the demon's hands loosened their almost too hard hold on his waist. When he found his voice again, he stammered, “Firs-st boundary: I don't really like this position.”

Bill pulled back, seeming genuinely surprised. “Huh,” he mused as Dipper continued to shake. “I would think you being on top would allow you to feel a little more in control of things.”

“M-maybe normally,” but Dipper wasn't normal, and Bill was capable of making just about any position feel like the demon was the one in control. Those were the words he wanted to say, but didn't. He briefly wondered if Bill realized that was the case, though. He must. “It's just that,” he searched for an explanation that wasn't vulgar, biting his lip when he felt like he was starting to think in circles. Closing his eyes, he only jerked back a little when one hand left his back to trace his bottom lip with one finger. With his lip forced from his mouth this way, Dipper whispered nervously, “I don't like sitting . . . here.” His face felt hot from the explanation, and he had to fight not to just push himself up off the demon and run from the embarrassment.

“That makes sense.” He sighed loudly at that statement, then lost his breath all over again as the world spun and suddenly he was on his back with Bill lying beside him. With the demon's body pressed flush against his side, he actually found himself relaxing more and more as Bill resumed tracing his lips with a finger. “This is a little more familiar, no?” Dipper nodded slowly, trying to regain control of his breathing. The demon hummed, contemplating his next question. “So you don't like anything touching you 'there,'” his voice dropped, mimicking Dipper's nervous tone.

Dipper wasn't sure how to take the mockery at this point. Letting out a sigh and staving off the rest of the shaking, he responded, “No, I don't. I thought that was obvious.” He bit his lip again, realizing that answer had come out a lot ruder than he'd anticipated. “Sorry,” he murmured, glancing away and forcing Bill's fingertips off his lips.

Bill rested his hand on Dipper's chest, and oddly Dipper was okay with it. He didn't shrink away self-consciously, but he still felt the guilt building up from his short statement. Then Bill let out a huff of air before whispering, “Pine tree,” and reaching up to make Dipper look at him. When Dipper looked, he was met with another one of Bill's more placid facial expressions, one of the ones that startled him more than his more maniacal expressions. “First of all, I don't think you understand that I do actually take 'no' for an answer.”

Dipper didn't realize his eyes were narrowing on the demon until he uttered sardonically, “You're kidding.”

Instead of looking offended, Bill actually did grin at that. “Hard to believe, isn't it?” Very, Dipper thought. The grin remained, but there was a quirk to it that sent another tremor of . . . something through Dipper. “As you well know, if I want something,” Bill's thumb started tracing the teen's lips again, “I simply take it.” Dipper's breath hitched as nervousness returned, eyes steadily growing wider. This only seemed to encourage the dangerous smile playing across Bill's face. His legs tensed in preparation of kicking away if he needed to. “I find out how to get it, then I just take it. It's that easy for me. I wanted you,” he placed a deceptively gentle kiss to Dipper's cheek, making Dipper close his eyes, “and now I have you. I'd like to learn what exactly I can do with you.” There was a pause in which everything was silent and the only thing Dipper was aware of was the way he shuddered and the way Bill seemed to feel so much more . . . invasive of his personal space than usual. It wasn't like they hadn't fallen asleep in positions similar to this one, but this time just felt completely different. Dipper Pines was currently a mix of anxiety, fear, and confusion and he had no idea how to respond to someone, least of all Bill Cipher, saying they _wanted_ him. Then Bill interrupted his thoughts with, “You should probably breathe.”

Yes, but as soon as Dipper opened his goddamned mouth every insecurity he'd had thus far was going to come pouring out and he just didn't want that. So when Bill encouraged his lips to part by circling his finger at the corner of Dipper's mouth, the teen wasn't surprised when words started falling out after the initial gasps. “I'm scared,” slipped out before anything else, “because I don't really know . . . how to respond. When you touch me, or . . . I don't know.” His own fingers dug fretfully into the ground beneath him, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut even more to fight the urge to look at the demon and judge his reaction. “I like it, but . . . I feel like I'm not gonna be able to give you what you want, and I'm just being selfish letting—”

He was silenced by a hand pushing his bangs and the bill of his hat up, lips touching his forehead so softly he couldn't even finish his sentence. He slowly opened his eyes to see Bill's face inches from his, just before the demon muttered, “I don't think you heard me, Pine tree.” Bill's lips brushed his, and everything inside of him just . . . melted. When he pulled back, he whispered, “I have what I want.” The feeling that came over Dipper was so overwhelming that his breath stuttered in his lungs and he thought his eyes might water a little. Then Bill spoke somewhat louder than before, “And still full of surprises for a semi-predictable meatsack. What do we have here?” Suddenly Bill was tracing the birthmark on Dipper's forehead and Dipper couldn't stop himself from laughing a little at the enthusiasm clearly written on the other's face.

“You never noticed that?”

“No. You hide it well, you little trick.” Dipper couldn't stop himself from snorting even if he'd wanted to. He relaxed almost completely when Bill started kissing every point of the birthmark, his other hand cupping Dipper's cheek while the teen actually dared to let his hands rest on Bill's torso. Bill hummed at the feeling before pulling back to kiss his lips once more. Then Bill's mouth was at Dipper's throat as Bill asked, “Got anymore constellations I should know about?”

Dipper shook his head, a smile creeping across his face as Bill's lips began teasing his neck. Before he could stop himself, he murmured, “This is the least lethal maiming I've ever encountered.”

Surprisingly, he didn't flinch when Bill let out a laugh that could almost be taken as malicious. “Oh, we're not done yet.” A hand swept down Dipper's torso to grip his side roughly, and while the touch was much more forceful than he would have liked he found that he wasn't panicking. “There's still so much to learn about you, my Dipper.”

“What if someone comes looking for us?” This was still a very incriminating position to be lying in.

“I'm pretty sure we'll hear them before they approach. We can just say we're relaxing before continuing our search.” Bill's look turned sinister. “It's not like we'll be naked or anything, Pine tree. Yeesh, what are _you_ planning ki—ow!” The cry came out more as a laugh as Dipper punched him in the side.

“Nothing sexual, right?” Dipper asked to reassure himself after Bill had poked fun at the thought.

“Wasn't planning on it. Kid, you realize people can touch each other without leading to that right?” With the way some people talk, one would think that wasn't the case. Still, Dipper sighed and nodded. “And you will tell me when you're not okay with something?” Again, Dipper nodded. “I don't know why I expected that to be a problem. You're very vocal about what bothers you—”

“How am I supposed to respond to that?”

“By shutting up and paying attention to me.” It was such a Bill answer that Dipper couldn't help but laugh. Even when Bill kissed him hard again, this time Dipper wasn't so quick to worry. Though a significant part of his brain told him that he should, he simply didn't. He was surprisingly okay with that.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE OF TWO UPDATES TODAY!

By some miracle, Grunkle Stan didn't notice how swollen Dipper's lips were or how red his neck was when they returned. He did notice that the flannel he normally wore over his t-shirt was missing, though. Dipper had carefully rehearsed telling him it had gotten torn when he'd almost tumbled out of a tree. That would have been more acceptable than the discovery that Bill no longer approved of him wearing long sleeves. Not after Bill had found out just how sensitive Dipper's wrists and forearms were to touch.

“Half of my wardrobe involves long sleeves,” Dipper had argued as Bill had flung the flannel up into the trees and out of reach.

“Well, your wardrobe no longer includes that thing.” Something told Dipper that he was going to lose track of his flannel shirts in the future, and that somehow the demon would find a way to blame it on the washing machine eating the shirts the way it magically ate spare socks. All the while they'd argued Bill had been randomly running his fingertips and lips up and down the underside of Dipper's arms, pulling moans of relaxation and stuttered breaths from the teen with each stroke.

Once they'd had dinner, Dipper and Grunkle Stan stayed up most of the night turning what Dipper had gathered into weapons. Somehow Dipper had been able to conceal from Grunkle Stan the number of purple marks Bill had left on his arms with a long sleeved shirt that had not yet disappeared. By the time he'd gone to bed, Dipper had in his possession a dust that could put people to sleep for days, a powder that exploded when struck hard enough (which was kept in a very sturdy container), a liquid that when consumed turned the user invisible for several minutes, and a myriad of other potions he could keep on his person at all times in the event of another attack.

It was at least two in the morning when he was done, and he was shocked Bill had gone to bed at a reasonable hour rather than hovering about him and his great uncle as they worked tirelessly. When he'd slipped the bare minimum amount of clothes off and collapsed into bed beside the demon however, Dipper caught himself grinning when two arms snaked their way around his waist and pulled him closer. With Bill spooning him, he hardly needed to pull the covers over them to fall into a deep sleep.

If only they'd woken up as pleasantly as they'd gone to sleep. Instead, they received a bucket of cold water dumped on their torsos and faces. Bill shot bolt upright, Dipper rolling out of bed and hitting his head on the dresser as he fell. He cried out, grabbing his head as he slumped to the floor. He felt a hand brush his shoulder, but the touch was broken when his great uncle shouted, “Keep your goddamn hands off my nephew!”

“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper started to speak, looking up and shivering from the cold water the old man had poured on them. “Just listen for a—”

“No,” the old man snarled. Dipper flinched when Stan jabbed a finger at him and declared, “You were supposed to be the one who had some sense in this area. Instead I come up here and find you _snuggling_ with this equilateral asshole!” Stan dropped the metal bucket at their feet before bellowing, “Just how long has this been going on?”

Dipper shook his head, almost afraid to answer. He did anyway, because he knew he couldn't dig his way out of this one. “Since Robbie attacked me.”

Grunkle Stan's eyes narrowed on Bill, the old man grinding out, “Waited till he was vulnerable, huh? Then you made your move?” Grunkle Stan slipped his hand into his pocket, asking Dipper, “What did he make you promise him? Did he back you into a deal?” 

“No. I . . . we . . .,” when Stan pulled his hand free, it was equipped with brass knuckles. All air flooded Dipper's lungs at the sight of them. “Grunkle Stan—?” 

“You take yourself downstairs young man. Billy and I here are gonna have a talk.”

“What? No!” Dipper scrambled to his feet, clothes clinging to his frame from the cold water. He was about to step forward, but Bill was already standing up and putting himself between Dipper and his great uncle.

“You probably should, Pine tree,” Bill said, placing a hand on Dipper's arm. Dipper didn't like how cold Bill sounded, didn't like the way his boyfriend was glaring back at his great uncle.

“I said hands off!” Stan growled through gritted teeth. “Dipper, get out.” 

Oh no. Dipper wasn't leaving them alone, not even for a minute. “No.” He stepped out from behind Bill, steeling his resolve and narrowing his gaze.

“Dipper Pines, you are about to be grounded into the next century. Now let me handle this or I'll—”

“No, just,” he flailed, trying to pull their gazes from each other to him, “listen to me!” Holding his hands up, he finally had his great uncle's full attention as he began, “He didn't promise me anything, he didn't offer me anything, I _chose_ to be in a relationship with—”

“Those had better be bruises and not what I think they are,” Stan interrupted him, a look of pure malice passing over his face as he glared at the marks on Dipper's arms.

Dipper's whole face heated up as he dropped his arms and turned them down so the marks were no longer visible. “Um,” he was just asking himself if hickeys were technically bruises when he started to falter, “look, I . . .,” when did bruises become more acceptable than hickeys anyway? “You see, it's like—”

“Motherfucking bastard!” Suddenly Dipper was being thrown aside and all he heard was the scuffling of feet.

“No!” he immediately cried as he hit Mabel's bed, using it to gain balance and spur himself back toward the demon and his great uncle. Everything seemed a blur as he ran to try and separate them again, reaching for the iron grasp Stan now had on Bill's shirt. He didn't see the old man draw back his fist until in was too late. Knuckles met skin, a loud thud ricocheting through Dipper's skull in place of Bill's jaw. There was a split second where no pain registered, he just hit his wet mattress with his elbows while knees scraped the wooden floor. Then his head exploded from the point where Grunkle Stan's fist had collided with Dipper's temple and no amount of squeezing his eyes shut or covering the soreness with his palm could reduce the splitting feeling that suddenly plagued him.

“Dipper!” The cry seemed distant, so he couldn't really tell whose voice it was. He did, however, hear what sounded like another faraway punch followed by a body hitting the floor. The eye that was furthest from where he'd been hit shot open without trouble, and he saw that his great uncle was now rolling on the floor cradling his jaw and the side of his face. Then there were hands on his upper arms and shoulders, jostling him to his feet.

“Grunkle Stan . . .,” he was barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth, closing his eyes against the continuing buildup of pain in his head.

“That old cockroach will live, I promise,” Bill said, words growing louder and more painful on his head (much like the lights, which somehow felt brighter) as the teen was pulled from the room and downstairs to the kitchen.

:)

Mabel and Pacifica entered the Mystery Shack that morning, Pacifica feeling a great deal better than she had the day before. The good feelings dropped about as quickly as Mabel's keys did upon entering the kitchen to find Bill pressing an icepack to the side of Dipper's head and Grunkle Stan stumbling down the hall towards them with his knuckles on. Staring at her drenched, binderless brother, his equally drenched demon boyfriend, and the old man with the busted lip, Mabel probably could have come up with something snappier than the words that came out of her mouth if she'd wanted to. However, it didn't happen. What came out was, “I was gone for one night!”

“What the—?” Pacifica began, but was quickly cut off.

“Did you know about this?” Stan almost shouted at Mabel.

Pacifica's eyes narrowed on Dipper as Mabel's face started to grow hot. Pulling the hat off her head, she murmured, “Um . . . yes?”

“Dipper?” Pacifica asked, as if she didn't recognize Mabel's twin. The look of sheer humiliation that crossed her brother's face couldn't be described as anything other than pitiful. He turned his head out of Bill's hands and carefully held the pack to his temple, drawing his legs closer together and hunching down in the chair shamefully.

“Mabel, what did I tell you?” Grunkle Stan declared, slamming his fist down into his palm for emphasis. “Don't encourage them—”

“I didn't! I swear, they—”

“As the oldest thing in this room, I think I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions without the help of any Pines,” Bill remarked snidely, standing over his boyfriend as Grunkle Stan stepped further into the room.

“That's great and all,” Mabel agreed with the demon, “but why does my brother have a black eye now?”

“Ask him!” Mabel could hear Pacifica take several steps back, pressing herself against the wall as Bill's pupils narrowed dangerously and his fangs flashed. Just like that, not one but two family secrets were laid out on the table for Pacifica to see. If there was any chance of hiding the fact that there was a demon in their place of residence, it had just been shattered. Mabel turned to see Pacifica with a palm pressed firmly over her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at Bill, who looked ready to wale on Stan at any moment. Mabel quickly guessed that he had given Grunkle Stan the bloodied lip.

Stan's aggression faded slightly as he turned to Dipper, whose gaze was firmly fixed on the ground. “Dip, it was an accident. I'm sorry—”

Dipper shut his good eye, voice somewhat withered as he uttered, “It's okay, just—”

“I was aiming for him,” their great uncle's tone turned accusatory as he glared at Bill, who then turned fully toward the old man.

“Well, you didn't hit me, did you?” Bill retorted.

The two started towards each other, Stan growling through gritted teeth, “You should've kept your goddamn hands off of him—”

“Stop, please!” Dipper cried, looking pained as he proceeded to lean on the table top. Struggling with the bare icepack, Mabel stepped between the demon and her great uncle towards the oven. Taking a small towel from the handle of the oven, she moved to wrap the towelette around her brother's icepack for optimum comfort. “None of this would have happened if you had just listened—”

“No, Dipper, you listen,” Stan started towards them, but Bill quickly sidestepped into his path of travel. The old man's gaze turned so spiteful even Mabel shuddered upon looking at her great uncle. “You really think you've earned the right to come between me and my niece and nephew?” he hissed at the demon.

“Grunkle Stan, just calm—,” Mabel started.

“No!” the old man shouted. “No! I did not open this house up to him for him to do this!” He waved both hands dramatically, Pacifica flinching back even though she was almost completely plastered to the wall now. Jabbing his finger in the air towards Mabel and her twin, he lowered his voice and almost sounded desperate as he said, “Dipper, why would you do this to yourself? You of all people here know what he's capable of. You of all people know he can't be trusted.”

Mabel wanted to say something, but knew better than to choose sides with either of them at this point because it would only lead to more trouble. However, Dipper already looked too unwell to be having this discussion and was steadily losing more and more of his composure. Mabel was about to turn to Pacifica to tell her if she wanted to leave she should probably do it now before she learned anything else about their family she probably didn't want to know. It was in the awkward silence that Dipper said, “I know what I'm getting into, Grunkle Stan. I'm not stupid.”

“You could've fooled me, kid.”

“Excuse me, I have the sole right to call Pine tree stupid,” Bill snarled.

“What, are you his family now?”

“Please stop fighting,” Dipper pleaded, sinking lower onto the table.

“It's getting us nowhere, guys,” Mabel said.

“Would it kill you,” Stan directed his question to the demon, “to let me have a word with my family alone?”

Bill's hand fell back, searching for Dipper's shoulder as the demon's eyes stayed trained on their great uncle. When it found its target, Dipper slid one of his palms over Bill's as he uttered, “Just . . . go wait in the living room.”

“Pacifica, if you want—,” Mabel began, but the girl held her hand up to stop her.

“I'll wait for you,” she said, stepping hesitantly forward and eyeing the demon cautiously, “with . . . him.”

The two moved around Stan, Bill's eyes remaining on Stan until he was safely past him. When Pacifica and Bill were in the hallway, they could just hear Bill ask, “So you're the not-quite girlfriend.”

To which Pacifica replied in a hushed voice, “And you're the not-so-secret boyfriend.”

When the two were finally out of earshot, Grunkle Stan moved to Dipper's side and ordered, “Show me your eye.”

Dipper hesitated to remove the icepack, and when he did Mabel didn't know who to feel worse for. On the one hand, Dipper was the one with the swollen, steadily deepening purple and black marks that spanned from temple to bridge of his nose, eye so red it looked like it was on fire. On the other hand, Grunkle Stan looked so shattered by the sight of the damage he'd done that he dropped the brass knuckles still on his fingers entirely. They clattered to the ground as he reached to inspect Dipper further, but her twin turned away so abruptly he was forced to a stop.

Then, just as she'd suspected, hell broke loose and she couldn't get a word in edgewise. “What the hell were you kids thinking? Don't you remember what he is? What he can do?”

“Well, not very much since, you know, he's trapped in human form.”

“He is using you. Can't you see that?”

“I'm pretty sure there are better ways of taking advantage of someone than this.”

“Hardly. Dipper, he is a demon. He sensed you were prone, and he clearly hit you where you weren't expecting to be hit.”

Mabel tried cutting in there, “He has shown no interest in hurting us. If anything, he's kept us safe—”

“What exactly do you think he's using me for?” Dipper asked, voice elevating as he completely ignored what she had said.

“God only knows with him, but you're practically his doormat now—”

“Doormat?” Dipper dropped the icepack on the table entirely, eye struggling to widen along with the other as both of them increased their volume. “If he were using me, really using me, don't you think I'd be able to—?”

“No, I don't think you'd be able to tell!”

“We've been doing nothing but try and help him. What more could he use us for?” Mabel tried speaking logically, but again she went unheard.

“He's going to hurt you, kid. That's what he does!”

“I realize I can get hurt. I can get hurt with anyone!”

“Not like with him.” Stan flung his hands into the air. “Even if by some dark miracle he does give a shit about you—”

“I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have punched you if he didn't—”

“Are you really defending him to me? He could be trying to isolate you by making me look like the bad guy, goddammit Dipper use your head!” Their gestures grew more animated and Mabel found herself backing away as her great uncle waved a finger in the air before pointing to his head.

Dipper was flailing now. “That's all I've ever done! That's all I'm good for, is using my head! Just trust me—”

“It's not you I don't trust. Even if he did care, which he doesn't, he would still hurt you! Again, he's a fucking demon!”

“I am not going to let him hurt me—”

“Well he's already sank his teeth into you, I see, so it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to throw some claws in there too!” Stan leered at the very visible hickeys on Dipper's arms, a noise of disgust leaving his mouth.

Dipper grew red from mortification, and Mabel interjected loudly, “Should I just leave?”

“No, because you're the reason he's here in the first place!” Grunkle Stan shouted and she couldn't recall a time where her great uncle had ever yelled at her quite like that. “We had a goal, and that goal was to get him out of here as soon as possible. Find the enchanter and be gone with him. What now? Did the lot of you forget that's what we were supposed to be doing here?”

“No,” she hated herself for how small her voice sounded, for the way her lips trembled. He'd really yelled at her. She couldn't believe that he'd actually yelled at her.

And that he continued to do so. “You can't have a bleeding heart for anyone who shows up helpless. You will end up with snakes in your home!” He turned on Dipper, “And you are not morally obligated to fall for the first person who doesn't treat you like a freak of nature!” The room went so quiet that when the house creaked they all jumped slightly. The breath caught in her throat as she watched her twin's expression falter before shattering completely into a quiet despair. On her great uncle's face dawned the realization of his words, and he seemed shocked and appalled at himself for having said what he had said. Holding his hands up, he started, “I didn't mean it like—”

“Of course you didn't.” Her brother's words were soft, and she could almost hear his throat growing thick with the words he would like to say but wouldn't. Or, more accurately, couldn't.

“Dipper,” Stan moved closer, the desire to console almost unnatural on his typically mirthful face. He made jokes, yes, but he was never vindictive. She knew this, Dipper knew this, but it was just . . . it was too far. Mabel could see that he'd gone too far in the way Dipper turned out of his outstretched hands. Stan looked about ready to crumble at having hurt her brother so thoroughly, but still proceeded with, “I just want you safe, okay?”

“Yeah. Safe.” Her brother's eyes watered as he looked back up at his great uncle, and she felt her own fill with tears at how swiftly the situation had devolved. “There's no such thing as safe. Not in Gravity Falls. Not anywhere.” Dipper quickly swiped at his eyes, trying to pass it off as discomfort over the bruise. “Not for me.” Because I'm a freak. Her brother didn't say the words, but she heard them all the same. It was her tears that fell, though.

“That's not—”

“I'm gonna go clean up the mess upstairs,” Dipper declared. He sucked in a lungful of breath before steeling himself as much as he could. “Then I'll go through the journals again. I'll find a solution.” He pushed past both of them quickly, uttering, “I always do,” as he fled down the hall and up the stairs. She made like she was going to follow him, only to come to a stop in the doorway when she heard him tell even Bill, “Not right now. Just leave me alone.” The slamming of the attic door could be heard throughout the house.

Her chest and throat seized and she covered her mouth with both hands. The tears came, and all she could do was turn to her great uncle. He wasn't too well himself, as he was holding his head with both hands murmuring, “I didn't mean it. I swear I didn't mean it.”

“I'm sorry,” spilled from her mouth brokenly, and sobs threatened to tear her apart. “I didn't mean for this to happen.” Her hands slid up to cover her face, because she knew they blamed her. She just knew. Grunkle Stan had said it: Bill was here because of her. “I'm sorry.” And now Dipper was hurt because of them, just as Grunkle Stan had predicted. Maybe not exactly as he had predicted, but he'd predicted Dipper would be hurt all the same.

Unlike Dipper she didn't shrink away when Grunkle Stan tried to pull her closer and reassure her, whispering 'Mabel sweetie's and promises that everything will work out and he'd fix it. She didn't know if she should have, but after a time having her tense shoulders massaged by one of his hands made her stop questioning her need to figure out the right or wrong answer.

:)

The tenseness in the shack didn't die down at all. If anything, it got worse when Pacifica decided to take Mabel out again to try and make her better. For the first time, Mabel was going out with Pacifica in her own clothes and not her brother's. Only this wasn't quite the way she'd wanted things to go, they could all tell.

How she'd gotten clothes when Dipper had locked himself upstairs, Bill wasn't sure. All he knew was that when he and Stanford were alone again in the living room, he had expected one hell of a fight. Instead, he was faced with an old man who looked ten years older just from having argued with his niece and nephew. Bill hadn't heard everything that had happened in the conversation that had followed him leaving the kitchen, but he knew that no one had come out on top. It had ended in a stalemate, with all three devastated. Meanwhile, the one Pines Bill truly wanted to check on wasn't even speaking to him. Again. How he fucking loathed the silence that had fallen, a silence that seemed so much greater in reality than it ever had in his realm.

How humans didn't just keel over and die every time a silence fell, he had no goddamn idea.

But here stood Stanford, with an almost shriveled version of hatred in his eyes as he growled out, “So I've upset my entire family, and I can't even bring myself to blame it all on you.”

“Must be difficult for you,” Bill retorted. He should probably have thought better of his words, but he was still livid over the old man having laid a hand on his Pine tree. He was lucky Bill hadn't knocked him out completely. “I imagine laying blame comes naturally for you.”

From the look of it, it was sapping all of the old man's strength to keep his mouth shut. He wasn't up for a fight. Honestly, neither was Bill. He just wanted to get back upstairs and see if there was some way he could repair any damage before he managed to find a way to cause more. According to Stanford Pines, that's what comes naturally for him. “Before I found the two of you this morning,” Stanford interrupted Bill's thoughts, biting his lip like he wanted to fight more on just how he'd found his nephew and the demon, “I called Stanley.” Bill's back straightened. “Now if it weren't so damn expensive to call him again, I'd give him an update on this little fiasco and see what he had to say about it.” Bill was somewhat relieved that wasn't going to happen. For a human being, Stanley Pines was rather destructive _and_ unstable. He'd liked that about him. For a time. Later on, it had just become a flat out inconvenience. “But I learned there is another way to get you back to the mindscape and restore your abilities.”

Bill's eyebrow quirked up. “Go on.”

Stanford's eyes narrowed. “Don't get too excited. It requires two magic users and I will never _ever_ support this.”

Bill had a feeling he knew where this was going. “It's a binding,” he observed. Stanford nodded, but did not elaborate. That left Bill to extrapolate, “A binding between myself and an enchanter, hosted by a second enchanter.” He knew that spell. He had never used it, had never seen it used, but he knew it.

And Stanford was clearly making sure he knew the consequences if Bill even considered using it. “My niece is not powerful enough to host, and my nephew is far from being a decent magic user.” Stanford stood up straight, attempting to make himself seem tall next to the demon. “And I will be damned before I see you bound to anyone in or out of Gravity Falls.”

Bill couldn't say he was surprised by the old man's reaction to this old ritual. “So we're still gunning for the enchanter who started this in the first place.”

“You bet your ass, we are.” Yes, Bill imagined Stanford wanted him out more than ever now. Why the old man hadn't tried to throw him out with the twins not around to protest, Bill could only guess.

Actually, he had a pretty good guess at the moment. He folded his arms, speculating, “You're not so gung-ho to get me back to the mindscape, it sounds like. What's the matter old man? You scared?”

“For my family, absolutely.” Stan's voice lowered so only the two of them could hear him say, “I don't care what you want my nephew for. You can't have him.”

Bill turned fully to the old man, coming to stand toe to toe with him before snarling, “I don't want him _for_ anything.” I just want him, he almost said. He figured that wouldn't go over too well with Stan though. Not right now. It was probably also a bad time to mention that once Bill's powers were fully restored, there really was no law stating he couldn't just take Dipper then.

“If you can prove that to me, you won't hear me bitch about it again. But I can't foresee you doing that. Not in a million years.”

“Get ready to be astounded, you crusty meatsack,” because he had just issued Bill a challenge.

“I'd love to just end you right now,” Stanford growled back, “but for some goddamn reason my kids trust you. And they are _my_ kids.” Stan managed to make his next words seem even more intense. “I will do anything for them, and if that means destroying you so be it. So if you hurt Dipper in any way, I don't care how. If he so much a whispers something off about you, you will never see him again. Are we clear?”

There was a time Bill would have snorted at the idea of being 'destroyed' by a mere human, but at the moment he saw the opportunity to get even. He also saw the perfect opportunity to warn the old man of what he would be capable of soon enough. “I won't fight you on that,” he said softly before baring his teeth and adding, “as long as you meet _my_ demands.”

Stan's face grew pale and his eyes narrowed even more. “Excuse me?”

“If anyone in your family ever lays a hand or harms Dipper the way you did today, I will take him from you,” the demon hissed. It was miraculous in and of itself that he hadn't said 'my Dipper,' which would have only set the old man off. 

Granted, the old man still looked ready to scream again. “He is not some pawn for you to bargain over.”

“Says the man who just promised me an untimely end in almost the exact same manner I promised to relieve him of a member of his family.”

“Did you not hear the part where I said you can't have him?”

“And I won't take him, unless I see you or any member of his family as a potential threat to his well being.” He didn't like people touching his things. He didn't like people using his things. He most definitely did not like people hurting his things. While the old man had a point that Pine tree was not just some thing, that made Bill all the more determined to secure the notion that Dipper was now his to protect as well within the old man. It took Stanford only a few moments to see that that was what Bill was doing. The demon would have smirked if he thought he could get away with it. Instead he asked, “Are _we_ clear?” He was surprised he didn't receive a long overdue punch in the face when he offered Stan his hand to shake.

As it was, he was more than pleased with Stanford's reaction. “I'll hold you to that,” he said before seizing Bill's hand and attempting to crush the demon's fingers. 

Bill almost smiled at the cracking of his bones. “You had better.”

He could feel the old man questioning his choices even as he left the room to check on what was his.

:)

Dipper had staved off the tears long enough to yank the wet sheets and blanket from his mattress. He was in the middle of flipping said mattress when the way his clothes clung to him started to irk him, and he started to pull them off. With the damp articles off his skin, he wanted nothing more than to just pull on some dry clothes and continue to try to piece the morning back together.

It was when he was holding his binder in his hands he realized he wasn't going to be able to. He wound up sobbing pulling a shirt on without struggling with the tight article of clothing. What was the point? What was even the point when everybody and their brother had seen him without it earlier? What was the point when all it did was earn him the title of freak? This was the one place he'd felt okay with himself. This was the one place he'd felt even a little safe. Imagine that, feeling safer in a town riddled with demons and monsters and conspiracies. Perhaps it was the fact that these things tended to draw the attention away from what was real, what truly constituted as an issue elsewhere in the world. It was only a matter of time, really, before he'd realized it was just an illusion. Who was it that had said reality was an illusion? Oh that's right: his boyfriend.

It was the circulation of these thoughts that left him on his knees beside the upturned mattress and pile of wet sheets and clothes. Hunching over, he covered his face with both hands to muffle the cries. His face was hot and stained with tears under his hands and his temple hurt so much but he couldn't drop his hands. His black eye stung with every tear, but he couldn't stop crying and the pain just made the sobs so much worse and he was so embarrassed. He was so embarrassed and humiliated and all he wanted to do was sit there and never emerge from his and Mabel's room again. He wanted to be angry with someone, anyone, but got stuck on just being angry with himself. Only a matter of time. It was only a matter of time. He should have known better. That was all there was to it.

He didn't know how long he'd been crying, hadn't even bothered to check the time. He hadn't even bothered opening his eyes as it hurt enough to wipe at the tears let alone try and actually see the world around him. It wasn't until he heard the door (which was supposed to have been locked) creak open that he brokenly bit out the words, “Go away,” and glanced back to see it was exactly who he thought it was intruding his personal space yet again. He felt guilty over everything all over again, from pushing Bill away early on to accepting his hand in this relationship. There was nothing he'd done that didn't make him feel guilty suddenly, and that only made him curl up more and whimper out, “Please. Just go.”

“No.” 

The word sent a bolt through him, and he found himself having to draw his legs up to his chest to plant his forehead on his kneecaps. Wrapping his arms around himself, he begged, “Please. I don't . . . I can't . . .,” I can't let you see me like this. That's all he wanted to say. Why did everything have to be so difficult to say around him? The floorboards creaked as the demon settled down at Dipper's back, the teen sobbing even more as arms much stronger than his wrapped around him to pull and position him so that he was leaning against Bill's chest. A hand rested in his hair, massaging his scalp but careful to avoid the bruising as Dipper found himself giving up and letting Bill hold him close. At some point, he grabbed a handful of Bill's shirt and just squeezed the still damp material between his fingers. After several moments of failing to get himself together enough to form coherent sentences, Dipper sputtered, “Your clothes are still wet.”

“I'll change later.”

Dipper didn't like the way the demon just dismissed his statement, like his observation didn't matter. So he growled, “You're not gonna laugh at me?”

“For what?”

Dipper didn't know. The way human faces leaked when they were sad or upset or angry? “For . . . this?”

“Why?”

There was nothing like a placid Bill Cipher to incite all of the mistrust Dipper had ever felt in his life all at once. “Don't you like seeing me under duress or something?” came out more aggressive than he'd wanted to and he was honestly shocked when the demon didn't respond with a scoff or even a snort at him. It disturbed him.

And then the demon said, “Not anymore.” 

The kiss Bill placed on his forehead was enough to break Dipper yet again. “You asshole,” he croaked out before burying his face in Bill's chest.

Then there it was: the snort. He'd been waiting for it, and here it was. The demon just wasn't snorting at what he'd expected. “I can do literally anything and still be a jerk in your eyes, eh Pine tree?” The guilt could have crushed Dipper at that point. Instead of saying anything, he just curled up closer to Bill. The demon held onto him tighter, whispering against his hair, “I'll pick on you later. I promise.”

Dipper nodded. He believed him. He had to. It was the only thing he could be certain of at this point, as everything else he'd ever been certain of had just crumbled in a matter of minutes.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO OF TWO UPDATES TODAY, DON'T MISS CHAPTER 16!

The silence that fell on the Mystery Shack lasted three days, and not one Pines spoke to another the entire time. They rotated around the house in a mysteriously predictable way, one going from the television to the kitchen then finally to the bedroom. Not one remained in the same room with the other for long and the rotation almost seemed like clockwork. The only people who didn't obey the schedule seemed to be Soos, Wendy, Bill, and Pacifica. Bill and Pacifica could almost always be found with their preferred Pines twin, but unlike the Pines family did not stick strictly to this sort of isolated living. Wendy dropped in on Stan and Dipper and Soo dropped in on just about everyone. They'd pass each other in the halls with questions about the shop (when Stan was actually feeling up to running the shop) and questions about how everyone else was doing.

It was on one such stop where Pacifica and Bill met with Wendy in the hallway, the brief statement from the redhead barely audible, “I'm not used to this place being so quiet.”

“I had enough silence back at home,” Pacifica agreed in a hushed tone.

“You're not obligated to be here, you know.” Pacifica flinched at Bill's words, and he knew they'd come off wrong. Either that or she was still just a bit jumpy around him. Both seemed like a likely option.

She replied anyway, “Yes I do,” before proceeding upstairs in search of Mabel.

Before Bill could head to the kitchen, Wendy asked, “Any idea what Stan said to make Dipper so cold?”

Bill shook his head. While he had an idea, he had not heard that part of the conversation. It was probably something Dipper would have to tell her himself if his hunch was correct. Red sighed, rubbing her forehead worriedly before disappearing into the living room.

Soon he was in the kitchen trying to coax a mug of coffee and an open book out of Dipper's impressively tight grip, and he'd gotten the sense that he'd definitely done this before.

:)

Mabel could have cried when the silence shattered. It started with Pacifica having to leave. “He says we need to talk. He wants me to meet him at a restaurant.” By now, Mabel no longer needed to ask who the 'he' was that she was referring to. Pacifica's hand shook as she held the phone in her hand still blinking with the notification for the voicemail. She looked to Mabel with worried eyes and whispered, “I want to go, but . . .,” she didn't think it would change anything. She didn't think he would change his mind about her. At least, that's what Mabel thought was running through Pacifica's head. 

Quickly wiping her eyes, Pacifica held her arms out and Mabel was not about to deny her an embrace. Holding the blonde closely, Mabel whispered, “You don't have to speak to him. You know that, right?”

Pacifica nodded against Mabel's shoulder, then added, “I know it's stupid, but . . . I still want his . . . I don't know . . . .”

“It's not stupid.” Sometimes you still love the people you know you shouldn't. Mabel didn't say those words, because she just knew she would break as soon as they passed her lips. Instead, she gently consoled Pacifica and walked her to the shack's exit. “At least you're meeting in public,” she offered as they neared the door.

Pacifica nodded. “I'll call you as soon as I can.”

“Or just text,” Mabel said. “Whichever's easier for you. I've still got my own situation to deal with here, so you'll know where to find me.”

They both grew yet more sullen, which didn't seem possible until right then. “You'll be okay, right?”

Mabel forced a smile, which didn't feel entirely falsified as she actually was appreciative of Pacifica staying with her. Mabel knew it was difficult, finding out so much about the Pines family residence in one fell swoop. For someone who had had terrible run-ins with ghosts herself, Pacifica wound up taking the news about Bill exceedingly well. “I've survived worse.” She was sure she'd start to feel alright again once her family formally forgave her for dragging them into this. How long that would take . . . that was the real source of her anxiety.

“You call me if you need me.” Then Pacifica was driving away and Mabel was holding her phone in both hands, wanting nothing more than to beg the blonde to come back.

She sank to the floor, back to the door and hands wrapped completely around the cell. She wanted to. She really wanted to call Pacifica back, but she couldn't. She had to face this on her own, but she also had to admit that she had never been that good at facing things on her own.

Which was why she was so happy to see Dipper in the doorway looking at her. She was also shocked, because though she hadn't said anything directly to Dipper to hurt him (and had in fact defended him and Bill), her brother still hadn't spoken to her since the argument. He'd been completely buried in books trying yet again to find information that continued to elude them all. Her only link to him over the course of three days had been Bill, and Dipper had said surprisingly little to the demon as well.

The twins stared at one another for what seemed like several minutes before Dipper dropped his gaze and rubbed the back of his head. “So,” he said softly, hesitant to continue speaking, “when are you gonna tell her you got it bad for her?”

Mabel huffed, shaking her head and glancing to the ceiling. “I don't even know where to begin.”

Dipper stepped lightly, clearly nervous to approach. Making his way to her side, he settled down onto the floor next to her. Their shoulders bumped as he said, “She probably wouldn't have stuck around so long if she didn't . . . well . . . feel similarly I guess?”

She looked at her brother as she asked, “You really think so?” Dipper nodded, then gave her a weak smile. Before she could stop herself she cut off all thoughts of Pacifica and said, “I'm really sorry, bro bro.”

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

Eyes shooting towards her feet, she dropped her hands and phone into her lap. “I got us all into the enchanter mess, and I haven't been doing anything to get us out of it.”

Dipper shook his head. “If anyone's at fault for putting us behind, it's me. I got injured and set us back for weeks.”

“Which means I should have stepped it up a notch instead of,” she fumbled for words, “fooling around with someone I don't even know likes me back.” Her eyes widened as she analyzed her words. “Jeez, it's just like the sock opera incident.”

“Complete with the Dorito,” Dipper joked with a fuller grin.

“Minus the puppets.”

“Well, there was Robbie.”

“Oh my God!” They chuckled at how accurate the statement turned out to be, leaning into one another before calming down and exchanging glances. “Awkward sibling hug?”

Dipper nodded. “Awkward sibling hug.”

:)

Later on, Mabel received a phone call from Pacifica that somehow settled the last of the tension within the Mystery Shack and put them all back on track. She explained to Bill, Dipper, and Grunkle Stan as she was throwing on her brother's clothes to go meet with Pacifica. “Her dad's hosting some sort of formal celebration for the whole town next weekend, and he wants Pacifica to head the PR for it.”

“Weren't her parents not speaking with her?” Grunkle Stan asked.

“And are you gonna be helping her or something?” Dipper asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes and yes.” Mabel twisted and pinned her hair as she continued. “Apparently the discussion at the restaurant went really, really well. Lots of heart to heart, attempts at reconciliation and whatnot. She sounds really excited about this, but,” she pulled the duplicate of Dipper's cap over her carefully done up hair, “I see this as an opportunity.”

Dipper saw where this was going. “The whole town's gonna be there—”

“—so that means—,” Bill interjected.

“—the enchanter is guaranteed to show.” She pointed to Bill with both fingers. “We get you out there, and let everyone see you out and about, and surely we'll figure out who the culprit is.”

“Should I get more supplies?” Dipper asked, going through his mental list of what he and Grunkle Stan had put together. “Just to be on the safe side, I mean.”

“You're good to go, I think,” Grunkle Stan said before turning to Mabel. “You need to practice your magic, young lady. You're gonna need it.”

“Do we have an actual plan of how this is going to go down?” Dipper really didn't want to wing this.

“The plan is for you to stick with me, for Shooting star to stick with Blondie . . . what's her name again?” Bill asked, squinting.

“Pacifica?”

“No, her last name.”

“Northwest.”

“Okay. Weird.” Bill nodded slowly, then proceeded with, “Shooting star sticks with Blondie slash Pacific girl, and that way she probably has access to all the maps, exits, guest lists—”

“Would there be a guest list for the whole town?” Grunkle Stan asked.

“It's a Northwest party. It's gonna have a guest list,” Dipper declared. “But once we know the enchanter and possibly block all the exits and risk a fire hazard,” Dipper paused and realized Grunkle Stan and Bill both looked a little too excited about that idea, “what then? I don't remember any incarceration spells from the book, and I definitely didn't collect anything that could—”

“Knock him out with that powder you got, and someone will stuff him in a bag,” Bill reasoned.

“Just like kidnapping Santa Claus,” Mabel said with a fiendish grin.

“You kidnapped the lobster man without me? How dare?” Bill turned to Dipper's twin, looking genuinely offended.

“I'll explain the reference and we'll fine tune this plan when I get back. For now, I've gotta go get the dets!”

“Mabel sweetie, how much does Pacifica know about knick knack here?” Stan jabbed his thumb in Bill's direction.

“Just that he's a demon. Nothing else.”

“Alright. Knock 'em dead, kid.” Mabel dashed out as swiftly as she'd changed clothes, leaving the two men and the demon behind. Bill slipped out of the room without giving notice, and Stan and Dipper were suddenly face to face without any mediator. Dipper looked down, self-consciously rubbing the still sore spot where Stan had hit him. It was no longer as intense as it had been, the blacks and blues having faded slightly to purples and yellows. His eye wasn't red from the impact anymore, and his eyelid didn't protest as much when he tried opening and closing. The stress grew more and more as they stayed silent, waiting for one or the other to broach the issue. It was Grunkle Stan who finally attempted to fill the silence. When he did, suddenly Dipper couldn't stay quiet either. “Kid, what I—”

“You don't have to say anything,” Dipper immediately cut him off, and he wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want to think about what had happened anymore or if he actually believed the old man didn't mean it. He wanted to go with the latter, so he added, “I know you didn't mean it.”

Stan sighed. “It was still a dick move. I'm worried for you, but that's no excuse.”

“You were trying to make a point, and I see your point, but . . .,” he couldn't figure out how to say this. He could plan out a confrontation days in advance, but he couldn't even fathom thinking up a scenario of rapprochement. 

Grunkle Stan interrupted his thoughts, “I still shouldn't have said it.”

Funny how the sadness in his great uncle's voice could make him feel guilty even when it was the old man apologizing. “Grunkle Stan, that wasn't the first time I'd been called a freak. It's—”

“Dipper, let me acknowledge the fact that I'm an asshole and make up for it. Don't excuse me just because it's not the first time it's happened.” The old man's eyes narrowed. “If that's the case, have you made that bag of dicks boyfriend of yours apologize for any of his past shenanigans yet?”

Dipper didn't know why, but he snorted at the stab at Bill. “He's been making up for it in his own way.”

He expected his great uncle to say something else on the matter, and was surprised just to see him roll his eyes. “Let's just skip to the part where you punch me in the face for recompense, shall we?”

Dipper laughed, then stared at his uncle with wide eyes when the old man didn't budge. “Wait, you're serious?”

“Yeah. Let's get it done. Want the knuckles?”

“No!” Dipper shouted, backing away and holding his hands up defensively (like he was the one who was about to get hit, Jesus really). “I'm not gonna hit you!”

“Come on! I didn't teach you how to punch for nothing!”

“No! Is this really happening right now? Didn't Bill hit you? Can't that count?”

“No!” echoed from down the hall, indicating the demon was eavesdropping.

Dipper rolled his eyes and smacked his palm against his forehead. “I can't do this . . . .”

“Sure you can. Just ball your fist and throw.”

Dipper glared at his great uncle. “You sure are encouraging for someone who's about to get hit.”

“I deserve it. Just get it over with, why don't you?” Dipper sighed loudly, doing as Grunkle Stan had taught him and balling up his fist. He drew back only a little, barely putting any force behind the launch. When his knuckles touched to the side of Stan's face that wasn't already bruised from Bill's punch, the old man's head barely turned and one could hardly call it an impact. Grunkle Stan rolled his eyes again. “That was fucking weak, kid.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dipper grumbled before drawing back again and actually hitting the old man hard this time. The old man stumbled back, and Dipper immediately reached up to cover his mouth. “Oh God, I'm sorry!” he cried out quickly, resisting the urge to flail as Grunkle Stan righted himself.

The old man simply responded with a thumbs up and a muttered, “Better,” before clapping Dipper on the shoulder in a congratulatory manner. “Now let's make sure you actually do have enough supplies to go head to head with an enchanter.”

Dipper wasn't entirely sure what just happened, but somehow everything felt right in the Mystery Shack again.

:)

After going over all the plans for advertisement and venue, Mabel taking notes and asking for copies of everything (just like Dipper would), she and Pacifica finally decided to go out to a small cafe for a quick lunch. Pacifica spoke animatedly about the party, but said very little about the actual discussion between her and her father. Mabel didn't pry, because all that really mattered to her was how excited (and jittery) Pacifica seemed to be about the event. No, it didn't escape her notice that Pacifica was nervous. She just figured that if the blonde wanted to talk about it, she would. She'd grown more open about what she was thinking and feeling during the time they'd spent together.

Taking a quick sip from the cup of hot tea the waitress had brought to them, Pacifica said, “This will be the first formal event I've been to with my parents in . . . I can't remember the last time.”

“Did you miss it?”

Pacifica leaned back in her chair. “The events themselves, yes. My parents and their nitpicking?” She shuddered slightly. “No. That, I didn't miss.”

“Sounds like they're leaving the nitpicking up to you, this time. That's good, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She smiled down at her cup of tea, a flush crossing her cheeks that almost made Mabel inquire about the change of expression. Then Pacifica said, “I think your plan worked.”

Mabel perked up. “Really?” Because last she'd heard, Pacifica's parents were mad that she was seeing anyone in general.

“I don't think they care as much,” she said, before glancing to Mabel, “because they told me I could bring whoever I wanted to the party as my plus one.”

Mabel's heart stuttered, doing this strange motion where it leapt up and yet at the same time stalled out and dropped. Her plan had worked: Pacifica's parents weren't trying to rule her in quite the same way as before. Were they still trying to rule her? Probably. Just not in this division. At the same time, it wasn't like Pacifica was asking her to be that plus one. For all she knew, Pacifica was asking her to just drop the act and be her friend again. She could live with that, but . . . wow, was that a punch in her stomach. The very thought of just going back to being friends and not holding her hand in an act of pretense (pretense on Pacifica's part, not Mabel's) made her . . . she couldn't think about it. She had to keep her hopes and such concealed for Pacifica's sake.

She managed it well. She'd had years of practice when it came to rejection. “So are you planning to take someone special?” Mabel tried not to fold her hands the way she normally did when she looked like she was plotting, instead sitting on them and keeping her voice down to continue mimicking her brother's tone as people walked by and sat close to them.

Pacifica smirked, eyes half-lidded as she played along. Whatever deviousness she tried to show in her response was quickly lost as her cheeks continued to redden. “How do you feel about tuxedos?”

Her heart did that stupid motion again, and she had to think twice as hard on her own reply. She also had to try twice as hard to keep her hands from twitching beneath her thighs. Stay focused, Mabel, she thought to herself. Sighing, she felt guilty for what she had to say. She lowered her voice considerably so people would have to strain to hear her. “I don't mind them, but,” if she had to keep up the Dipper act, it wasn't going to work, “my twin will be there, too.” She couldn't ask Dipper to pretend to be her. That would just be . . . cruel. Then again, Mabel could always appear with Bill. “Maybe she can bring along her guest—”

“I don't think he'd like that very much.” It took Mabel a moment to connect the statement to Bill. Oh. Yes. No. No, that would be a very bad idea. Mabel as Dipper had been posing as Pacifica's boyfriend, and if Dipper was expected to maintain that act with her . . . Mabel wasn't entirely sure Bill wouldn't spill blood. Oh Jesus, what had she been thinking?

Okay, how the hell was this going to work? “Um . . .,” she fumbled and fumbled, but nothing arose in her brain. She was not a planner. She came up with plans, but she was not a planner and she was feeling the pressure from her nerves and her stupid heart palpitations. Looking up, she could see Pacifica growing even more jittery and she wanted to come up with a solution quicker because the blonde just looked so nervous about what Mabel would have to come up with to make this work. “Maybe—”

“Iwantyoutogowithme,” left Pacifica's lips so fast Mabel almost didn't hear the sentence. Well, she heard it but not he words that composed it. She looked up to see the blonde had set her tea back down hastily and her face was as red as Dipper's tended to get when confronted with Bill when he . . . well, just Bill in general.

Mabel's brow furrowed as she answered, “Well, that's the plan, but—”

“I mean you,” Pacifica almost shouted. Suddenly, the blonde was leaning over the table and pulling the hat off Mabel's head and Mabel went stiff. “Not him, _you_.” She felt her hair come undone thanks to the angle from which the hat had been pulled, brown locks untwisting and falling in pieces down her back and face as pins slipped and got stuck in strands. She barely heard people start commenting, but didn't look. She couldn't break eye contact with the girl who sat across from her, face crimson as she clutched the hat in both hands like a vice. She covered her mouth with the hat, looking completely embarrassed by what she had done and even more nervous than before about Mabel's reaction. Mabel was . . . the stillest she had been in a long time. She felt like she wasn't even in her own body at the moment, because the Mabel she knew would have flown across the table and tackled the girl happily by now. But she couldn't move. She was too afraid that if she moved, what she thought was happening would stop happening. She really wanted it to happen though, oh man did she want it to happen. So she just watched as Pacifica closed her eyes and said, “One time . . . you said I could have anyone I wanted.” Please let this be it, she internally begged. She tried not to think about all the other times she'd begged for something to go right and had had it go wrong in every way possible. She had to leave the negativity to Dipper, or else she might sob every time she got rejected by the person she liked or asked out by someone she could never see herself being happy with. Please let this be it. Please, oh please. “Is that statement really true? Like . . . are you . . . included in that statement?” Okay, so there was a drawback to Mabel Pines being still for too long: she would continue to be still until whatever danger passed. Like a damn squirrel, Mabel thought to herself. She wanted to say something, do something, nod, anything, but suddenly she was stuck. Just staring. And it was making Pacifica look and feel even worse, she could tell. “Because, I was thinking,” the hands gripping the hat dropped and Pacifica broke eye contact to stare down at her tea, “that if you would be willing,” she bit her lip and Mabel was still steadily trying to regain feeling in her limbs and resume control of her own body, “I'd love for you to go with me not as my best friend or . . . pretend boyfriend,” it's happening, oh God it's happening, “but as my girlfriend?” Mabel gasped, and then gulped. These were the first movements she'd made since her head had been uncovered. She blinked several times, still processing all Pacifica had just said. A buzzing noise started in her ears and she almost jumped when Pacifica started, “You can say no—”

“Actual live girlfriend?” fell from Mabel's mouth so quickly Pacifica also jumped a little at the question.

Then the tension in her shoulders and back melted and Mabel could see she was trying to hold back a hopeful smile. “Yeah,” Pacifica answered.

Just like that, Mabel unfolded out of her seat and flew around the table at the blonde with a squeal that would have made Grenda and Candy proud. Pacifica managed to look only a little bit discomposed as Mabel wrapped her arms around her and pulled her out of the chair in lieu of knocking them both over and disrupting the other people at the cafe any further. When Pacifica's arms circled Mabel's waist and held on just as fiercely, Mabel clarified without shyness, “This is a yes, by the way.”

Pacifica laughed, voice muffled by Mabel's loose hair. “I figured.” While Pacifica had always been particular about public displays of affection, she wasn't so quick to let Mabel go this time. If Mabel was beaming before, she was practically on fire at that revelation.

:)

Bill, Dipper, and Mabel sat on Dipper's bed with maps of the venue and illustrations of what exactly was going into the setup for this party. While Dipper used multiple overlays to create multiple versions of escape plans and such, Mabel deviated between giving valuable input and refraining from prattling on about her not-quite-fake-anymore girlfriend.

“Okay, here are seventeen ways to get out and about fifty ways to get easily surrounded if the enchanter has allies,” Dipper said, fanning his hands out over the stack of overlays and papers.

“You don't expect us to memorize all of this, do you?” Bill asked.

“No can do, bro bro. I already got one book I need to take brain pics of.”

“Brain pics, what even—no, I'll handle escape routes. Just know your exits,” Dipper started gathering everything up into one stack. “Escape depends on the number of people to elude, and on the condition of the exits. For all we know, one door might be broken, another jammed. Plus, what if the weather starts to act up and we can't go because of—”

“Slow down, Pine tree,” Bill pulled Dipper's hand from the stack and placed a quick kiss on the teen's wrist. Dipper settled down instantly, a small smile breaking across his lips. “No need to worry. No matter what, we'll make it out okay.”

“I don't know about you guys,” Mabel said, pulling out the binder full of spells again so she could start going over it before bed, “but I keep hearing that 'Final Countdown' song in my head for some reason. Remember that song, Dip?”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “How could I forget it? Soos would be proud of you for remembering it.”

“You should sing it.”

“No.”

“Please bro bro? Has Bill heard you sing yet?”

“Pine tree sings?” Bill's eyes went wide as he stared at his boyfriend, who was steadily growing redder.

“Not often—,” Dipper began.

“But when he does, it's awesome!”

“Not really—”

“Well, now you have to,” Bill declared.

“No I don't. Why do I have to?”

“Because I haven't heard you?”

“Yes you have.”

Bill shook his head. “Nope. Afraid not, Pine tree.”

“You have to have heard me, Mr. 'I-followed-you-for-years,'” Bill snickered at how Dipper mimicked his voice, which only made the teen fluster more. “I used to sing all the time.”

“Then you shouldn't be so shy about it. Come on, just one refrain?”

Dipper huffed angrily. Then he said, “Get me a glass of water first. My throat's dry.”

“You are such a _cop out_!” Mabel shoved her brother over playfully, her twin looking bewildered from the assault.

“I said I'd do it! Why am I a cop out?”

“I'll get the water,” Bill offered before he decided to peel Shooting star off Pine tree.

Bill was halfway down the stairs when suddenly he started to feel lightheaded. Shaking his head, he continued to his path towards the kitchen anyway. The feeling persisted even as he retrieved a glass and held it under the faucet while he turned on the water. Leaning on the sink, he started mentally going through the various things that could cause such a feeling in the human body. He was through crossing off the basics, such as lack of food and sleep, when left the kitchen with the water and headed for the stairs. 

He was about to take his first step up when his knees gave and suddenly the stairs were rising up to meet him instead. The glass started to slip from his fingers, and in one last moment of consciousness he managed to set it up on one of the higher steps. Then his head hit the corner of one stair and he lost all feeling in his human form whatsoever. His vision faded in and out and his ears began ringing in the dead silence that followed. His mind raced, but as soon as he thought he was going to pass out completely he came to just as swiftly as he'd gone down.

Flexing his fingers, Bill was relieved that no one had heard his fall. Listening to the sound of his own breathing and to the pulse that quickly started throbbing in his ears, he blinked several times before pushing himself upwards off the stairs. His legs felt fine. His arms felt fine. Everything felt fine and there was no sign whatsoever of the lightheaded feeling that had preceded this incident. Standing up carefully, he leaned on the wall beside him just in case it happened again. When it didn't, he picked up the glass of water and got back on course.

In the back of his mind, he thought he knew what was happening. “This is not good,” he muttered to himself before entering the twins' room. No, not good at all.


	18. Chapter 18

“Oh my God, I was joking!”

“Don't pretend you don't like it,” Mabel said, adjusting her vest and bow tie before turning to Dipper. His twin's girlfriend had a healthy supply of formal clothing, and was now putting them through hell in trying things on. Correction: they were putting _him_ through hell. Mabel and Pacifica were having fun, and Bill had not emerged from Pacifica's room where he had been left to try on whatever he thought suitable for him. Dipper and Mabel were both a little frightened to see what the demon would come up with, and Pacifica seemed to be trying her damndest not to think about who (or what) was in the bedroom of her flat.

Her brother stood just as stiff as he had the first time Pacifica had shoved him into a suit, pulling at the bow tie and yanking at the collar. “Can I just . . . not?” he asked as Mabel did the adjusting for him, Dipper staring down with face flushed at the outfit.

“You're not gonna wear a bow over your normal clothes and call it fancy. It's not fancy,” his twin declared as Pacifica stood behind him, gingerly tugging at and neatly combing through his hair with her fingers. “Plus, this could be your first actual date with an actual guy—”

“Demon.”

“—and you're gonna look fantastic. Don't even go there with me, bro bro.”

Dipper sighed. “I can hear our parents now. 'You'd look so much better in a dress, why don't you just give it a chance,'” he rolled his eyes and gesticulated with his hands while sticking his tongue out, doing a bad impression of both their parents. Then he dropped the act and just closed his eyes and groaned. “I look like crap no matter what, _and_ I'm hella uncomfortable.”

Mabel burst out laughing and Pacifica snorted before his twin pointed out, “You said hella.”

“Good thing we finally got you outta the shack, Dipper. Your vocabulary was starting to devolve in there.”

“Well, not devolve so much as conform,” Mabel corrected.

“Jesus, I think your hair's thicker than Mabel's,” Pacifica pointed out as she worked with the unruly locks. “At least she can braid hers.”

“But we both rock a suit, don't we?”

He could hear the blush in Pacifica's response. “Yes. Yes you do.”

Dipper's glare intensified as Pacifica grabbed his bangs and pulled them back. “No,” he drawled for an additional three seconds. “Not the bangs, why?”

“Gotta slick it back, like a gentleman,” Pacifica declared. “You can't be showing up looking like a hobo like you did that one time.” She came around to stand beside her girlfriend and assess what she'd done. She smirked. “Is that a birthmark or a tattoo on your forehead?” Dipper rolled his eyes again, slouching but not answering. Mabel and Pacifica both folded their arms, tilting their heads as they scrutinized his appearance. Dipper honestly just wanted them to stop trying on suits and get back to the shack where he was mostly safe. “Dipper Pines, I think you've filled out since the last time I saw you dressed up.”

“I should hope so. I was twelve last time.” And he hadn't worn a suit since, as he'd done everything in his power to avoid homecoming, prom, whatever stupid high school dance Mabel tried to rein him into. She always failed, and his parents were constantly disappointed in his refusal to put on whatever formal outfit they deemed suitable for him. With a sigh, he asked, “Can I take it off now?”

“No, you have to see yourself,” Mabel said, pulling her brother towards one of Pacifica's mirrors. When the Pines twins stood side by side before the glass, Dipper sighed and hunched over more. Meanwhile, Mabel straightened up and declared, “Honestly, this is the first time in years we've actually looked identical.”

Dipper shook his head. “You look good. I don't.” He rolled his shoulders, but the clothes still felt too tight and he still felt incredibly . . . unattractive. He didn't know how else to describe it as he glanced away, biting his lip and running a hand up his forearm self-consciously.

“Come on, Dip. What's wrong? What can we change to make it better?”

Get him out of the damn suit. “Nothing, really. I just . . .,” he pulled his bangs back over his forehead, “don't look right.”

“You know what I'm gonna do?” Pacifica asked, coming forward and smoothing his hair back again before placing a hand on each of his shoulders. “I'm gonna throw you at Bill and see what he says.”

“Wait, no!” He tried shrugging out of Pacifica's grip, but soon Mabel joined the blonde in shuffling him towards Pacifica's bedroom.

“Nope. It's happening. Get over it.”

There was a split second between the door opening and him being shoved into the room where he panicked and squealed, voice cracking as he not only lost his footing, but wound up landing face first on the blonde's bed with his ass sticking up in the air. “Goddammit!” he cried against the comforter, standing up quickly and doing everything in his power to seem like he hadn't just landed face down in a compromising position. But it was too late. He'd not only been seen and laughed at by the demon, but had managed to stand up into an equally compromising position. His face reddened as he quickly turned away from the shirtless demon, who had absolutely no right to look that lean and somewhat muscular for someone who had only been human for a short amount of time. He went to open the door and escape only to find the door locked. A single, breathless, “Fuck,” escaped his lungs as he went completely stiff and heard the demon approaching.

“And don't do unspeakable things on my bed, you two!” Pacifica called through the door, somehow managing to make the situation yet more awkward.

“Oh God, kill me please,” he whispered.

“Bill, tell him he's pretty!” Mabel cried.

“Shut up!” Dipper shouted back, leaning desperately on the door and jiggling the handle again like that was going to change its locked status.

He continued leaning against the door as he heard Bill approaching, Pacifica's voice still audible as she asked Mabel, “Seriously, do you think they'll behave in there?”

“Oh yeah. No sweat,” his twin responded.

“Well well well,” a hand slid up Dipper's shoulder blade and over his shoulder, pulling him so that his back was against the door. Dipper cast his eyes down and away, trying very hard not to look at his boyfriend's bare upper body. Pursing his lips instead of biting one, he only just remembered to slowly inhale and exhale as he saw Bill's hands being placed on either side of his head out of the corners of his eyes. “So Shooting star wants me to tell you you're pretty, huh?”

And he'd thought he couldn't be embarrassed by his sister anymore. What a foolish presumption. He battled for words before hesitantly stating, “I look stupid.”

The demon snorted at him before flatly retorting, “No.” Bill pushed off the door and stood up straight. Dipper still kept his gaze trained on the ground even as his boyfriend commanded, “Now stand up straight and let me look at you.” Dipper obeyed, but still didn't look up. Just for Pacifica's sake, he flattened back his hair as much as he could with one hand. His nerves started buzzing when the demon hummed and said, “Now turn around.”

“Jesus,” Dipper uttered, growing redder by the second as he obeyed.

“Was a bit too nice for my tastes,” Bill responded to the utterance. When Dipper's back was fully to the demon, he probably should have expected something weird to happen. However, he was still genuinely surprised when Bill's arms abruptly circled his waist and pulled him to his chest. “I've seen enough,” the demon whispered against Dipper's hair before pressing his lips to the teen's neck. “You look amazing.”

Dipper shivered at the sensation. “You're full of shit.”

“I didn't wanna have to do this, but I'm gonna have to resort to a popular human phrase from a while back.” Oh God, was he really clearing his throat for this? He was, and Dipper gasped and almost cringed when the demon's breath blew across his ear. “Were I unwed, I would take you in a manly fashion because you're pretty.”

The teen glared at the door in front of him. “One, I don't think you said it right. Two, that's a meme that should've died a long time ago. Three, no,” Bill laughed again, waiting for the fourth comment. How the demon knew there was going to be a fourth, he would never know. But he rolled his eyes and went against his better judgment. Through gritted teeth, his cheeks reached their reddest point as he growled, “And four, you're not married.”

“I know,” Bill's arms tightened around him and the demon's body heat grew even more noticeable through the suit's many layers. How did one politely ask their boyfriend to put on a goddamn shirt? Dipper sure as hell had no idea. “Now close your eyes.”

Dipper's brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because you probably don't want to see _my_ eyes when I turn you around to kiss you.”

He needn't say anymore, as the teen's eyes had already slammed shut at the reminder of how Bill's pupils did that . . . thing that made Dipper both scared out of his wits and uncomfortable in the demon's space. “Okay,” he said, swallowing hard. He managed to keep his eyes closed as he was jerked about and pulled into another crushing embrace, the teen's hands almost getting wedged between their chests. Bill's lips mashed into his, and he had absolutely no control over the moans the demon brought out of him. He wound up pushed back against the door, Bill's hands sliding over his torso until they came to grip the lapels of his coat. At some point while Dipper's lips were being bruised by the demon's, his hands had slipped from between them to rest on Bill's neck. A noise of surprise culminated in Dipper's throat as the demon pushed him back against the door, forcing the teen's mouth open with his tongue before pressing his partially unclothed body closer. If Dipper wasn't completely sure Bill wouldn't do anything to him without his permission, he would have probably been extremely nervous right then. But he was sure, and that felt good.

Then Pacifica banged her fist against the door hard enough Dipper felt it on his back. “Behave!”

Bill pulled back, both he and Dipper chuckling at the interruption. Dipper knew he was blushing, but still kept his eyes closed in case of Bill's eyes still doing that thing. “You should,” Dipper bit his lip, “you should get a shirt on.”

“Have I made my point clear, though?”

Dipper nodded, flushing more. “Yeah.” Bill still lingered in front of him, and Dipper hit his fist on the demon's shoulder before saying, “Shirt. Now. Please.”

Bill chuckled. “Okay then.” The demon obeyed, and Dipper couldn't stop smiling even as he gathered up the tux to take home for modifications.

Later that day, they returned to the shack with newly claimed formalwear and Mabel started the slow process of putting inside pockets in Dipper's jacket. “Bring me your stuff and I’ll sew them directly into the jacket.

Dipper did as she said, collecting the pouches and vials and everything he and Grunkle Stan had gotten together in preparation for their infiltration. Organizing them so the more volatile substances were on one end of the table while the least likely to do serious damage ones were gathered on the other end, Dipper then said, “I better go check on—, ” he stopped, cut off by a loud thump from downstairs. His first thought was something had happened to Grunkle Stan. Throwing a hand out at Mabel, who was on the verge of throwing what she was working on and running down to check with him, he ordered, “Stay!” before running downstairs himself. He ran past the living room where out of the corner of his eye he saw Grunkle Stan holding Waddles while yelling at the television set. The pig squealed as the old man dropped him on the ground, as if Dipper hadn’t seen them having a somewhat tender moment of sorts. Ignoring the situation, he ran to the kitchen to find the source of the sound. “Bill!” he screamed before dropping to the ground where the demon lay, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling while his body remained otherwise unmoving. Panic swept over Dipper as he gripped the demon’s shoulders. “Bill, what the hell? What’s happening? Come on, wake up!” His voice started cracking and growing louder as he shook the demon harder with every statement. “Bill, snap out of it! Wake up!” he shouted. Still no response. Before he could think better, he drew back his hand and smacked the demon trapped in human form clear across his cheek.

There was a delay before Bill blinked. Then his hand reached up to cup his jaw and he bit out, “That actually hurt, kid.”

Dipper didn’t care. He pulled the demon up into a tight hug, heart thrashing against his ribcage as he held fast and tried to steady his breathing. He didn’t know what the hell that was or question why the hell it had terrified him so much. He was just glad the demon was responsive and holding him back after the teen had found him lying catatonic on the ground without warning. After the demon questioned if Dipper was okay (Bill thought _he_ was hurt, did he have any idea?), the teen asked, “What just happened?”

Bill shrugged in Dipper’s hold. “Blackout. Happens on occasion.”

Dipper pulled back. “That has _never_ happened before.”

“That you know of.” Dipper’s eyes narrowed as a suspicion mingled with his initial panic. Bill clearly saw the change in him and sought to clarify, “It’s happened once before. I didn’t say anything. It’s not a problem.”

Except it was. It was very much a problem. Dipper could somehow sense it. “What do these blackouts mean?”

Bill rolled his eyes. “If I thought it was important, I’d tell you. Okay Pine tree?”

Dipper stared at the other a bit longer, unable to read his face. Bill was hiding something. He knew intrinsically that he was. “You’d really tell me?” Bill nodded. “Then tell me what it _might_ mean at least.”

Bill looked like he was trying not to get exasperated. “I am not entirely sure. When I am, I will tell you.” He held his hand out to Dipper and the human stared at it. “I always keep my word, don’t I?”

He pondered for several moments before glancing up at the demon’s face once more. Sighing and yet no less panicked, he shook the other’s hand. “Technically yes,” he uttered under his breath. Then he stood, pulling the other up with him. Bill was unsteady on his feet at first, resting his free hand on Dipper’s shoulder to find balance. He didn’t let go as he followed the human back upstairs to Mabel.

Dipper played the scene out in his head over and over again, trying to find hints of what had just happened and its probable causes within his own mind. He never settled on any one scenario or solution. The only thing that came to mind was that Bill needed to be restored to his true form, and this needed to happen as swiftly as possible. Only . . . Dipper wasn’t quite sure he was ready to let the demon go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating is harder than I imagined. I have writer's block so bad that opening my laptop makes me cry. Please understand that I'm doing my best. I really hope to at least have Chip and Dip and Revolve done by the end of July. I don't know what to expect at this point, honestly.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's chromasexual's birthday. Here's my gift! The next chapter!
> 
> Stay strong billdip friends I love you all!

Grunkle Stan went through the lining of the jacket countless times before allowing Dipper to slip it on and button it. “You look good, kid,” he offered proudly as Dipper adjusted his bow for the umpteenth time. He was even more uncomfortable in the now heavier jacket. Mabel hadn’t been able to sew all of his ingredients into it, but she’d done her absolute best. He carried in his pockets powder in a tight container and a vial of liquid, both stuck deep enough that no one would see a bulge or even suspect. Moving stiffly, his great uncle added, “Just don’t run into anything too hard. You should be fine, but still.”

“I know,” Dipper concluded shakily.

“And,” the next words almost seemed painful for the old man to say, “stick close to the demon.”

Dipper nodded. He’d already planned to. He’d only witnessed one of Bill’s fainting spells once, but it had been enough to make him incredibly nervous about what they were planning tonight. With a shaky breath, Dipper asked, “Got your phone ready?”

Grunkle Stan held up his cell. “Fully charged. Got your escape routes memorized?”

He sure hoped so. Running his hand through his slicked hair, he was scared to death. He had no idea what was going to happen and he couldn’t stand the thought of everything going to hell in a handbasket. He felt like it was almost guaranteed, though, if Gideon was really as involved as they had previously suspected. Glancing at his great uncle, Dipper asked, “You sure you don’t want to at least try and come in?”

Grunkle Stan shook his head. “You’ll need a getaway vehicle, kid.” While that was true, he still felt wholly unprepared for this event. The old man seemed to sense this, patting his nephew’s shoulder. It took Dipper all of two seconds to realize Stan’s hand was shaking too. The two made eye contact, and he could tell: he really wasn’t the only one nervous as hell. “We’ll make it,” Grunkle Stan tried to reassure, tone much quieter. Holding up his cell in a firm grip, he said, “Call me if _anything_ seems suspicious.” Both nodded, Dipper first then Grunkle Stan. “Then we should be fine.”

Dipper wanted nothing more than to believe that. Oh God, his stomach was suddenly sinking.

:)

Mabel sat in the front seat, watching Grunkle Stan watching Dipper and Bill in the rearview mirror. His eyes seemed to hone in on the two holding hands, Dipper gripping Bill’s hard as he stared out the window. Chin propped up by his hand, he looked incredibly uncomfortable in the suit and Bill was sitting with his side pressed flush against Dipper’s. The demon watched her twin, thumb caressing his hand reassuringly. Mabel herself was starting to get ill with nervousness, but at the same time she was excited for Pacifica. Pacifica had been working so hard on this event that as soon as they pulled into the lot of the venue, she was squirming in her seat.

And immediately, Dipper was on edge. “I know we’re supposed to be here early, but this place looks desolate.”

“Don’t get paranoid before the party starts. Just act casually,” Grunkle Stan offered.

“Too late,” Dipper whispered.

“I’m helping Pacifica get some last minute things taken care of. Guests will be here soon.”

She and Grunkle Stan could just see Bill lean closer to Dipper to whisper in his ear, “Just in time to spike the punch.” Fortunately, that brought a small smile out of her brother. He was still clearly tense, but Bill’s attitude seemed to help him a little.

So when they finally got out of the car, she didn’t feel too terrible about leaving them in the main event area and immediately going off in search of her girlfriend. Skipping happily in her colorful dress, she moved along one hallway to a spare room she had seen Pacifica use while storing party supplies. There were other smaller rooms, ones they had not used and ones Pacifica had declared never to open. She could only imagine what was in those rooms.

Making her way to the stairs, she went up to the smaller space that was the second floor. She imagined Pacifica would be there, waiting for her. After all, it was their break area for the days they had been getting things ready for the party. When Mabel opened the door and stepped into the one completely bare part of the building, she wasn’t surprised to find Pacifica. It was the state she was in that concerned Mabel. The blonde was pacing with her normally manicured nails being assaulted by her teeth, brow furrowed and fretful noises spilling from her mouth. “Pacifica?” she asked.

The blonde stopped, looking up at her like a deer in the headlights. There was a long silence, where Mabel waited to hear whatever was bothering her girlfriend. She would tell her. Surely she would, she always did. But Pacifica just continued staring blankly, eyes wide with . . . fear. What could she possibly be afraid—? “I can’t do this,” spilled from the blonde’s mouth.

Mabel sighed worriedly, moving over to her girlfriend quickly and pulling her into a hug. Mabel pulled away immediately as Pacifica went stiff. “Tell me what you can’t do, and I’ll help—”

“You can’t, Mabel,” Pacifica declared. Her voice was getting higher. Mabel grasped Pacifica’s hands, the blonde’s fingers locked around Mabel’s in a death grip. What had her so scared? “I have to . . . I need to . . . .”

“You don’t need to do anything. Everything’s ready when you are,” Mabel said, fishing for whatever it was that was bothering Pacifica. “People will be here soon—”

“No,” Pacifica said, visibly going more rigid.

“Don’t say that. Everyone is gonna come and have a good—”

“No one’s coming,” Pacifica declared firmly through gritted teeth.

Mabel’s heart stopped. So scared. Pacifica was so, so scared. “Pacifica, if it’s your dad—”

“I’m trying to tell you something Mabel!” the blonde snapped. Mabel started to step back, pulling her hands from Pacifica’s. Pacifica looked appalled at her own tone and hurt by having driven Mabel away. Eyes watering, her makeup started to smear as she continued holding up her hands like she wanted to reach for the Pines twin. Gasping out and closing her eyes, Pacifica started to turn her hands palms up. Mabel wanted nothing more than to run to her and pull her back into her arms, but was stopped as soon as the words, “Please don’t hate me,” left the blonde’s lips.

Then Pacifica uttered something unintelligible and her palms lit with flames.

Mabel’s eyes went round as saucers. “P. . . Pacifica?” She was . . . but if she was . . . then that meant . . . trap.

“You and Dipper have to leave. Now,” Pacifica stated, voice raising and growing more urgent.

But Mabel was already turning and running downstairs.

:)

For a time Bill and Dipper stood close together in the semi empty area, moving as a unit as Dipper calculated once again every possible exit and entrance. Soon. Guests will be arriving soon.

Dipper struggled with the weight of his suit jacket, fidgeting with the bow and the tightness of his collar. Bill wore his tuxedo like it was nothing. In fact, he looked more comfortable in it than he ever had in Soos’s clothes.

He was caught so off guard by a hand clapping down on his shoulder that he nearly squealed. “You’re looking swell, Mr. Pines,” Preston Northwest said in a voice that could only be described as conceited.

Dipper glanced up at the man, who he still couldn’t stand despite it having been years since the incident involving his mansion and family curse. “Th-thanks,” he uttered halfheartedly, focusing more on the emptiness of the venue than on the man addressing him.

“Are you looking forward to the event?” Preston asked, and Dipper had a difficult time not just blurting out that no, he really wasn’t. Social events weren’t his thing and this suit was uncomfortable and all he wanted to do was run back to the safety of the Mystery Shack.

Instead he stammered out, “I guess so.”

“I should hope so.” It was then that a hand gripped Dipper’s forearm tightly, snapping his attention away from the Northwest and towards Bill. Bill’s expression was downright terrifying, pupils narrowed to thin slits and lips pursed in an attempt not to bare his teeth. Dipper’s stomach dropped. “You brought the main attraction.”

Dipper didn’t need to know that Bill wasn’t able to pronounce Preston’s name, didn’t need to know that somehow this man was involved in Bill’s entrapment. He just needed to remember which pocket had the sleeping dust in it.

It was about when he was reaching for the inside pocket he remembered it being in last that he heard Mabel shout, “Run!” Unfolding the packet hastily, Preston was distracted by her shout long enough for Dipper to blow the dust in his face. The man blinked a few times, then started stumbling back and downward. Dropping the paper slip, Bill pulled Dipper in a run towards one of the doors. No one was here. Thank God, no one was here or else he would have had to navigate one of his elaborate escape routes. Mabel joined them in the run and Dipper yanked his phone from his pocket. Trying to get it open to speed dial Grunkle Stan, he relied on Bill and Mabel to steer him to the exit.

Then the doors to their intended exit slammed open and they were greeted by the absolute last person any of them wanted to see. “Fancy meeting you here, Cipher,” Gideon chirped, his voice somehow still annoyingly high.

The three skidded to a halt, Dipper’s cell falling from his hand and landing under Bill’s foot. It was cracked and powered down, making Dipper curse. A light flashed before him and Mabel stepped between Gideon and her brother just as the white haired teen raised his palm and cast an aggressive spell. She shouted a block of her own, successfully repelling it before glancing back towards the two briefly and saying, “I’ve got this!”

“Mabel—,” Dipper protested, but Bill was already dragging him away to another exit.

“Trust her,” Bill said, his breath suddenly unnaturally shallow. Dipper wanted to obey, but his heart was pounding in his ears and his nerves were so frayed, too frayed. “Lead,” Bill declared, still gripping Dipper’s arm as he let the teen show him to the next available exit. As they ran, Dipper saw Preston sitting up on the floor. Fuck, he thought. That concoction hadn’t lasted long at all.

They breezed past Preston without trouble, leaving Gideon and Mabel to shout spells at one another as they escaped. Dipper would have to find another means of contacting Stan, another way to get back to Mabel, but first he had to get Bill out. He needed to—

He jolted to a stop when Bill dropped to the floor without warning. “Bill!” he shouted, the other still and unconscious. Oh no, not this again. Not one of these damn episodes. “Bill come on!” Dipper’s hands were shaking as he grabbed both the demons arms and tried pulling him to the door. “This is horribly inconvenient of you!” he protested through gritted teeth, glancing over his shoulder to judge the distance between him and the exit as he dragged the demon’s human body towards it.

When he looked back up, he saw Preston stumbling around the corner. He dropped Bill’s unconscious self, reaching instead for another packet of sleeping dust. Dipper’s hand faltered when Preston pointed to Dipper and ordered, “Stop them!”

Pacifica arrived into view, looking as apologetic as that fateful day at the Northwest Mansion. The last thing Dipper saw was a bright flash of light before he collapsed on top of Bill.


	20. Chapter 20

Dipper awoke with a sore body. He shifted, curling up slightly only to find his wrists bound behind his back. He blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the dark as he heard voices. His ears strained to listen, and his eyes focused in on candles that sat on an altar before him. The small lights flickered and silhouetted the two speaking, whom he recognized as Gideon and Preston Northwest. His stomach turned as he saw neither his sister nor Bill anywhere. They couldn’t be . . . they wouldn’t have . . . would they have killed them? Not Bill but . . . his throat closed at the thought of losing his sister. Of losing Bill. No. No, this couldn’t be happening.

“Can’t we just get it over with?”

“Do you want the best of the best or half of the best? Because I’ll gladly give you a shred if you’re that impatient.”

Preston made a noise of disgust. “A shred,” he spat. “You promised me half.”

“And you’ll get half. But if you want your half to be bigger, you’ll do as I say and wait.” Dipper blinked the rest of the weariness from his gaze. “Just a couple more hours,” Gideon reassured.

Dipper remained still as he watched Preston leave and Gideon adjust a few things on the altar. Before Dipper could shift anymore, Gideon turned a spiteful gaze right on him. Dipper froze in fear as a Jack-o-lantern grin spread across his still rather chubby cheeks. Gideon had not changed in shape by much, but he certainly had grown in size. Almost as large as his father, he now dwarfed Dipper.

And he sauntered over to Dipper like the cowboy he would always pretend he was. “Why Dipper Pines,” he leered, “you are the last person I would expect to find on the arm of one Bill Cipher. And yet,” he gave a small chuckle, “there you were.” Dipper tried to scoot back, kicking away as Gideon approached. He was not so successful, however. “You two looked rather adorable together, I might add.” Gideon brought a foot down on Dipper’s chest and ground his heel. Dipper’s eyes went wide at the pressure, mouth agape and body trembling at the show of dominance. “Two weirdos,” Gideon declared before kicking Dipper in the ribs. The air left Dipper’s lungs and he curled up and drew his knees into his torso. “Two freaks.” The little light darkened as Gideon crouched over him, whispering like it was a secret, “If I had known of your true . . . situation, I would have loved to have seen you in a dress.” Dipper felt tears spring to his eyes. Gideon hummed. “Doubt you’d be as immaculate as my peach, but it certainly does take the edge off your threat to me. Who knew this whole time,” Gideon’s hand flew forward and gripped Dipper’s chin, “I was holding a grudge against a silly, little girl?” The words cut Dipper down more and the tears flowed freely. Jerking his chin out of Gideon’s hand, he buried his face in the ground to hide how the other had wounded him. Gideon laughed again, not missing a single moment. “Don’t you worry. I’ll put you back in your place once I have Bill’s power.”

Dipper turned his head back toward him, glaring with reddened eyes that threatened to grow puffy. “What have you done with Bill?”

Gideon’s eyes looked the epitome of mischief. “He’s locked away. Safe and sound.” Gideon poked Dipper’s nose, making Dipper flinch. “I’ve got you down here to insure he doesn’t try anything. Not that he can. He’s been human for long enough he’s almost out of energy anyways.”

“You think you’ll be able to get his powers from him while he’s so weak?” Dipper asked, fishing for information.

Gideon snorted. “Indeed I will. Just have to wait for the right time.” Gideon stroked the hair on Dipper’s head with false affection, making Dipper cringe away. “And you won’t stop me, Dipper Pines.” Gideon stood and started out of the room. “Not this time.”

Dipper felt the effects of what Gideon had said full force then. Tears flowing heavy from his eyes, he felt stupid for being so put down. He felt stupid. He shouldn’t listen to him. He shouldn’t. And yet . . . it hurt. It was everything he had wanted to escape.

And he needed to escape again. He and Mabel and Bill needed to escape. He didn’t know where they were, but he could give them a diversion. He could postpone the ceremony further. He just needed to do what Bill had once said and destroy the altar.

Putting Gideon’s words out of his mind, he assessed his situation. He didn’t have his jacket. Assuming they had taken it and its contents, he rolled slightly to check the status of his pockets. He still had what he’d stashed in there. That was something.

If he could get out of his binds, he could destroy the altar. Then he would try to fight his way to Bill and his sister.

J

Bill blinked awake slowly, and when he saw Mabel standing over him he tried to shoot up in search of Dipper. “Dip—!” he cried out, falling back down on a soft bed. Mabel pushed him down, hands placed on his shoulders to keep him in place. It wasn’t necessary. He knew damn well he wasn’t getting up. He couldn’t exactly feel his feet and the numbness was slowly creeping up the rest of his legs.

Judging by their surroundings, they were still in the same building they had been in. They just seemed to be locked in a room upstairs somewhere. Taking in Shooting star’s appearance, she looked about as upset as when her twin had been found beaten in the woods. She shook her head at him and he felt a violence swell in his chest when she gave no verbal explanation as to why Pine tree was not there with them. That violence increased when he heard another voice explain tearfully, “They have him.”

He turned his narrowed gaze upon Pacifica Northwest, daughter of one of the men who had helped imprison him. He bore his fangs at her, not caring that she was huddled in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees as far from him as possible. “You,” he hissed. She had betrayed them. He knew. He just knew.

She shook her head, makeup running from her eyes as she cried. It was Mabel who told Bill, “She wasn’t given a choice.”

“I don’t care,” was Bill’s short reply.

Then Pacifica began spewing rapid-fire, “Gideon needed to get out. My dad wanted more control over the town, has wanted it since the fiasco with the manor years ago. They made a deal: get your magic and use it to take over. They made me study magic, told me I had a knack for it. They didn’t give me a choice, have been planning this for years. They used me. They made me do it, made me trap you, made me possess Robbie . . .,” she tightened her arms around herself and tucked her head against her knees.

Bill watched as Mabel moved toward her, picking up on her own disappointment in her girlfriend. “Pacifica,” Mabel started, but clamped her mouth shut. Staring down at the other girl, Bill could understand why she was at a loss for words.

But all he wanted to do was wring the blonde girl’s skinny neck for endangering Pine tree.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Mabel, I really . . . I really . . .,” she started crying harder, shoulders shaking and knuckles white as she clenched the skirt of her dress.

Mabel got down on her knees before Pacifica, clearly wanting to comfort her in some way. At the same time . . ., “I don’t know what to say,” she offered honestly. “You hurt Dipper—”

Pacifica shook her head hard against her knees. “I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to, I didn’t—”

“I understand. But . . .,” Bill saw the tears streaming from Mabel’s eyes now, “you hurt me too.” Bill thought Mabel was being entirely too generous, that her terminology wasn’t harsh enough. Pacifica was part of the reason why Bill was going to end up dead if they didn’t do something fast. Glaring them down, he was about to say something when Mabel said, “If you help us out of this, I might be able to forgive you.”

“I won’t!” Bill barked angrily. He’d make her pay. Somehow.

Mabel looked back at him, a quiet plea for him to trust her on her face. Then she looked back to Pacifica. “You helped bind Bill right?” Pacifica looked up slowly, nodding. “Is there a way we can undo that maybe?”

Pacifica thought for a moment, then whispered, “You realize what they’ll do to me? If I choose you over them?”

“You realize what I’m going to do to them once I get free?” Bill snapped. Mabel turned a wide eyed look upon him as Pacifica stared fearfully at the demon in human form.

Mabel turned back to Pacifica. “Your family has used you. Gideon has used everyone. Don’t you want a chance not to be used anymore?”

“Mabel—”

“I know what I’m asking—”

“No you don’t—”

“You really don’t, Shooting star,” Bill declared. Mabel was sentencing Pacifica’s father to death in asking her to free Bill. Because Bill wasn’t letting anyone but the twins and himself out of here alive. Blondie might make just because Mabel cared for her, but that was pushing it. He had little other incentive to let the girl escape. Unless . . . , “I know a way.” He had their attention. He sighed heavily, knowing the twins’ great uncle was going to end up getting him back for this later. “A binding. Between myself and another. The bond needs to be hosted by an enchanter.” He nodded towards Pacifica. “Heard of it?”

She sniffled and nodded. “Learned it . . . as a backup if this failed.”

This was almost too convenient. Looking to Shooting star, he saw the reluctance in her gaze. “A . . . a bond?” she asked.

He nodded. “The soul of the bonded would be mine. I would essentially own that person.”

Mabel bulked. “Now you’re the one who doesn’t know what he’s asking—”

“I can’t feel my fucking legs!” Bill yelled. His anger flared higher, “And your brother is trapped down there, you think we have the time to really sit here and think before we act?!” If he could, he’d crawl towards her and shake some sense into her. He had strange levels of care for Shooting star, but Pine tree took precedence in this situation and Pine tree was in trouble. And he was dying. His human form was deteriorating from the inside. That was of utmost importance at the moment.

The girls looked from one to another. He needed them to make a decision. He needed them to now, or else they were all going to pay the consequence.


	21. Chapter 21

Pulling at the binds had left his wrists raw and had simply tightened the knots further. He was actually relieved when he found he’d made the holes big enough that if he moved his thumb to the center of his palm, he could just squeeze his hands free. As soon as he did that, he pushed upright and looked around the room. No traps. He hoped. None to keep him caged. He checked his pockets and found just one vial. One vial of powder. He let out a pleased sigh, carefully opening the very tightly sealed container before drawing nearer to the altar. Gripping the powder in his hand, he held his breath before throwing the whole container as hard as he could.

The blast created by the explosive sent him flying backwards.

Ears ringing, he slammed into a wall and opened his eyes to witness the devastation he had caused. Okay, so maybe the whole container had been excessive. Very excessive. The altar wasn’t just destroyed, it had been blown completely out of existence. Even the chalk lines drawn on the floor seemed to have been scorched off the ground by the explosion.

The ceiling above started to give, and Dipper scrambled upright. Though he was sore and aching from the impact, he wasn’t about to be trapped beneath burning rubble. He cried out as he limped towards an escape he had spotted while lying on the ground. Reaching into his other pocket, he popped open his last vial of magical substance and gulped it down. He coughed at the sour taste, then watched as his arms and body slowed disappeared from view.

It was looking possible he might escape before the floor above came crashing down on him.

:)

The whole building shook and they went still. Eyes wide, Mabel exchanged looks with Pacifica and Bill. The demon looked uncharacteristically worried. “He’s trying to get himself killed,” he snarled before his brow creased even more.

“I can host the bond,” Pacifica said, looking desperately to Mabel.

Mabel’s heart was still in her throat. What had Dipper done? Was it him? Was he okay? She looked to Bill, then to Pacifica. Pacifica knew how much Dipper meant to Mabel. How much he meant to Bill. And that they had no idea what was going on below them, that they hadn’t been able to burst out of the locked room and fight their way out.

Freedom was one soul away. Her soul. “If I do this,” she gulped, “you’ll save my brother?”

He gave her a droll stare. “What do you think, Shooting star?” Holding out his hand to her, he reaffirmed for her sake, “You don’t need to ask me to do that. Just get me to the mindscape.” Pacifica raised her hands, preparing to join the two of them in magic. Mabel took a deep breath, carefully looking over both of them. Then she closed her eyes and took Bill’s hand. Pacifica placed her hands over top of theirs, and Bill gave her one last warning before she could begin. “You know I’m not going to let your father live.” Mabel didn’t see her move, but she knew Pacifica had nodded when Bill uttered, “Okay,” and Pacifica began uttering under her breath.

A light began emanating, penetrating even Mabel’s eyelids and she knew it was too late to go back.

J

Dipper cursed loudly as he made his way upstairs and was met with Gideon and Preston. The invisibility cover hadn’t lasted nearly long enough, and Gideon screamed a spell at him that sent him through the air once more. He rolled to the middle of the sinking floor, which gave slightly under his weight. He felt the heat of the fire through the crumbling floor and shook. Joints buckling then locking in fear, he stared up at the two men who had trapped and fooled them all.

“You slick son of a—,” Gideon started.

“You’ve ruined everything!” Preston shouted, flailing.

The floor cracked again beneath Dipper and he went stiffer if possible. Sinking steadily lower into the flames he’d managed to escape beneath them, he stared up at the others in terror. He started to kick out of his precarious position only to still at the sight of Gideon’s hand raising again. “You stay right there, Dipper Pines.” The grin on Gideon’s face returned and his eyes lit dangerously. Dipper started to choke as smoke rose up through the cracks under him. “You might have ruined this one, but there are other demons. There are other ways.”

“You want to waste more of my time?!” Preston bellowed.

Gideon sneered. “It won’t be a waste of time if he,” Gideon stopped, gesturing apologetically, “excuse me, _she_ is out of the way.”

Dipper was shivering. The floor gave again and he glanced around hastily. The sinking section was too large for him to reach out and grab for a portion that might not snap and go down in the flames. He gulped and closed his eyes. The floor finally gave and he started to fall.

Only, he wasn’t falling.

Dipper opened his eyes and found himself encased in blue light. He . . . he recognized this light. Before he could find the source, he was flung across the room for a third time. Rolling once again on the floor, but this time towards safety, he couldn’t describe the relief he felt upon hearing Bill say, “Go upstairs and grab your sister and Blondie. Get the hell out of here!” He glanced up, starting to obey Bill’s command. Catching sight of the still humanoid but floating and empowered demon, Dipper flinched as Bill turned his slit pupiled gaze on Gideon and Preston. Flames turning red, his voice reverberated as he then ordered, “And don’t look!”

Dipper didn’t obey at first. He did look. He looked long enough to see blood running from Gideon’s and Preston’s eyes and mouths. He looked long enough to see them reach up, their hands not quite reaching their steadily bloodying faces before Dipper had turned and run for the stairs.

It didn’t take him long at all to find Mabel and Pacifica. “Dipper!” Mabel cried, leaping toward him. Both girls had tears streaking down their faces, and as much as he wanted to comfort them he couldn’t stop. Pulling both out of the room and down the stairs as quickly as possible, he didn’t take them back through to where Bill was desecrating their wardens. He didn’t dare show either of them what he had seen.

It seemed as soon as they had left, the building was engulfed in red flame and preventing them from entering again. Dipper stared on, knowing he would see no sign of Bill and yet hoping. He felt his stomach turn as his eyes watered both from the heat and the fear that now that Bill’s power had been restored, Dipper would not see him again.

He turned away, and saw Mabel with her arms wrapped around Pacifica’s shoulders as Pacifica sobbed loudly and openly. He knew then that even though she hadn’t seen, she knew. She knew exactly what Bill had done. What he was doing.

The flames burned red, then turned blue. Sirens sounded in the distance, but Dipper barely heard them. He only heard Pacifica’s crying.

:)

An accident, the police recorded. A tragic loss, the ambulance declared. A mess, the firefighters uttered. Ultimately, what had happened had happened.

Bill was nowhere to be found.

Pacifica had gone back home to mourn with her mother, who knew nothing of what her husband had done.

Neither Mabel nor Dipper wanted to be alone after this, and Stan was torn between furious with Mabel and relieved they were not hurt any worse than before. He looked so disappointed in Mabel’s bond to Bill, had told both of them not to be surprised if he never showed up again. That only made Dipper feel all the worse.

But the twins could see even in the old man’s face that he didn’t really believe Bill wasn’t coming back. He probably hoped that was the case. With a sigh he explained to Mabel, “You’re stuck with him for as long as he wants you around.” Her life was in Bill’s hands. That terrified their great uncle. It terrified Dipper. For all they knew, Mabel was going to outlive him. They had this fear that Bill would simply forget that he’d been bound to her and that she’d just be wandering alone forever.

And Dipper would be forgotten.

This was the thought that had Dipper out in the woods upset. He felt bad leaving Mabel on her own. After all, her girlfriend had stopped talking to her as well. But he really just didn’t need her to see him crying. Not over Bill.

It was less he didn’t want her to see and more he didn’t want Grunkle Stan to see. Grunkle Stan would say he told him so, and Dipper wouldn’t have a counterargument. Dipper just wanted to feel sad in peace, then get himself together enough to help his sister through her own losses. She really was taking Pacifica not speaking to them just as hard as Dipper was taking Bill being gone. The house just felt so empty. Without the tripping and falling down the stairs, without the uncomfortable gazing, without the endless nitpicking and questioning . . . something huge was missing and Dipper just wanted to feel Bill’s hand on his again. He’d give anything just to feel that. The warmth. Bill’s warmth.

He knew he had fallen asleep when the world turned to grayscale and he was greeted by a familiar voice, “Stupid wards on the stupid shack.” Even the grumble was a pleasant thing to hear. Turning around, Dipper soon found the bright gold of Bill in the mindscape. He stood still for a moment, waiting to be noticed and yet struggling not to just run immediately to the demon. When Bill looked up, there was a bright flash of light that forced Dipper’s eyes closed. When he opened them again, Bill was standing before him rather than hovering. He was in human form and smiling. “Admit it,” he spoke a little softer. “You missed me.”

Dipper’s heart leapt. He didn’t think twice about running to Bill and throwing his arms around him. Bill greeted him similarly, holding Dipper tight and refusing to let go. Dipper’s whole body flooded with relief at the warm reception. “You’re okay,” he murmured.

“Better than okay, kid.” Bill whispered. He nipped at Dipper’s ear playfully before picking him up and spinning him around in a circle. “I’ve got exactly what I want!”

Dipper laughed as he grew dizzy from the spinning. When Bill stopped and set him back down, he stumbled closer to the demon and said, “I . . . forgot about the wards. I’ll try to convince Stan to take them down.”

Bill made an obnoxious noise like steam being let out of a compressed area. “Just give me your soul too and we’ll call it even.”

Dipper’s brow furrowed and he looked up at Bill. “What?”

Bill winked at Dipper. “I can give Shooting star hers back if she wants it. But I’ll need another in return. Or, you know,” he gave Dipper a sharp grin, “I could just keep you both forever.” With a small smile Bill explained, “I told you there was a way to immortality kid. I’m offering it to you.”

Dipper’s brow continued to furrow. “This isn’t a decision I can just make on the fly, Bill.”

Bill huffed. “Didn’t anybody ever tell you growing up is optional?”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “I’ll think about it. Okay?”

Bill pouted. “You take forever to think.” Then he tilted his head in confusion. “You’re still interested, right?”

Dipper quickly closed the gap between them and pecked Bill on the lips. He grinned as the demon tightened his arms around Dipper, pulling him in for another kiss. Lips pressed together, Dipper had to fight to pull back enough to say, “I am.”

He was met with another fanged grin. “Glad to hear it.” Pulled in a tight hug, Dipper hummed at the very much missed feeling of Bill’s arms around him. Then Bill uttered, “I would hate to have to kidnap and brainwash you into loving me again.”

Dipper shook his head against Bill’s shoulder, quietly whispering, “Oh my god.”


	22. Chapter 22

Mabel was quiet as she sat on the porch. Packed and ready to leave again for the summer, she looked back at the shack. Her brother had taken one last trip into the woods and hadn’t come back yet. Their things lay in the living room, all ready to be hauled off in their parents’ vehicle upon their arrival.

Dipper had left early that morning, a messy note flung on his bed saying he was going to see someone one more time. She assumed it was Bill. It had been a month since the incident, and they had managed to get back to something of a normal summer after taking down the wards in the shack. Dipper had had Bill in his dreams, and she had been waiting to hear from her own beloved. The twins had already been seen off by their friends the day before they were due to leave technically.

All but one.

The one Mabel was still dying to hear from.

She felt the weight of the absence for the hundredth time before she heard a car pulling up in the driveway. Standing, she quickly rubbed at her eyes to ensure they were not watering again. Straightening out her clothes, she expected to see the family vehicle pulling up.

Instead it was a limousine.

Mabel stared long and hard at it, not fully believing she was seeing what she was seeing. A gentleman stepped out of the driver’s seat and opened the door. Sure enough, there she was. Blonde hair. Purple eye shadow. Every bit as perfect as Mabel remembered her to be.

And still far too stiff and uncomfortable in an environment such as the Mystery Shack.

But she was here. That was all that mattered to Mabel.

Mabel refrained from running straight to her, waiting for Pacifica to meet her eyes first. When she did, the blonde whispered, “I came to say I was sorry.”

She waited no longer. She ran smack into Pacifica and wrapped her arms around her fiercely. “I forgive you.” She repeated it over and over, at first afraid of the failure to return the hug. She started to panic, then felt relief as Pacifica straightened up and hugged her back just as fiercely.

Pacifica sniffled in her ear and whispered, “I missed the way you hugged.” Pacifica had once described Mabel’s hugs as being ‘all in,’ like she saw what she wanted and went straight for it without hesitance. She covered the object of her affections completely with her love and didn’t hold back. Mabel called it a Studio Ghibli hug, but she liked the way Pacifica worded it. “I missed you.” Then Pacifica was gushing words like she had done while confessing. “I missed you so much. I didn’t think you would forgive me. I really did want you to be my girlfriend. I really did . . . I really did love you.” Mabel couldn’t have hugged tighter if she wanted to. “I didn’t want to see the two of you hurt.”

Mabel pulled back just enough to kiss Pacifica. Both went still, Pacifica’s lips soft against hers and their arms locked around each other. The blonde tasted sweet, and she was reluctant to pull back even to whisper, “I love you too.”

Yes, Mabel had heard everything Pacifica had said.

Yes, what Pacifica had said had mattered.

But what mattered more to Mabel was making sure Pacifica knew she loved her too. They would learn to deal with the rest later. For now, Mabel had some ground to cover before she and Dipper had to leave again. She started with another kiss.

:)

Dipper hadn’t woken up in his bed. No, he had woken up on the ground with someone chanting above him. He neither recognized the voice nor the words being chanted. And his head hurt.

His head was also covered by a sack, so seeing and identifying the perpetrator wasn’t an option. Hands thoroughly tied behind his back, he started to squirm and twist in an effort to be free. This was a hell of a way to end an already eventful summer, he thought. Panic rising, the chanting grew in intensity and he thought about yelling or saying something only to find his mouth had been duct taped. He shouted against the tape, dirt spilling into his clothes as he tried to kick away, get away, escape somehow. Nothing was working. He stay beneath the chanting individual and—

He jumped and shouted again as the person grabbed his shirt, applying enough pressure to keep him still. Though he couldn’t see, he got the distinct impression that a knife was being raised above his body.

His suspicions were almost confirmed when a blast shook him and the person chanting, and he heard the familiar tear in reality as someone surged forward above him and bellowed, “Drop it!” Something heavy hit the ground beside Dipper’s head and he cringed away. “I don’t know how you managed to find one of the extreme few meatsacks I feel some attachment to, but sacrificing them isn’t going to get you a deal.” The fact that Dipper relaxed knowing the angry reverberating voice belonged to Bill should have disturbed him. Especially considering the person who had been chanting was whimpering now. “It’s going to make me kill you!” The person screamed. Then the reverberating stopped and some of the heat that had come with Bill drained from the area. His voice suddenly turned cheerful, and he chirped, “I’ll gladly accept your deal, by the way! Thanks for his soul! Been trying to convince him to give it to me lately!” Dipper blurted out a noise of incredulity against his gag before Bill then lowered his voice again and told the individual, “Now run.”

The person started scrambling away. Dipper heard the crunch of leaves and snapping of twigs as one by one feet scurried further and further away. Then he was lifted off the ground into a familiar set of arms. Hood removed, Dipper blinked several times before his eyes adjusted to the morning light. The tape carefully and slowly peeled away from his mouth, he coughed once before immediately asking, “You’re still taking the deal?”

Bill gave him a sharp grin, pupils widening in pleasure. “Of course I am! You’ll be my payment.” He turned serious. “Then I’m gonna kill that bitch.”

Dipper did a double take at the ferocity of the statement. He didn’t look down to see if it had indeed been a knife that had landed beside his head. He’d rather not know. He gave Bill a suspicious look. “If you weren’t so pissed right now, I might think you set this up.”

Bill feigned an offended gasp. “No!” he gusted in an exaggerated tone.

Dipper’s suspicions grew and Bill started carrying Dipper forward. Dipper didn’t miss the fact that he was still tied up and at the mercy of another. He just happened to be at the demon’s mercy now. “Suddenly the jury’s still out on that.”

“Pine tree, I’m way more creative than setting up a deal with an idiot to get your soul in my possession. Give me a little credit.”

“Uh huh,” Dipper muttered. “Why couldn’t you just wait for me to make a decision?”

“You’re assuming I’m somehow involved in this plot. I am not.” Dipper believed him. Then Bill said, “Besides, I told you you think too long. I was going to convince your sister to get to you first, before you both left Gravity Falls.” He clicked his tongue as he carried Dipper through the woods. “Which I’ll be leaving behind to follow you, of course.”

Dipper’s eyes shot wide. “Are you serious?”

“Can’t let my newly acquired pets wander too far. That would be careless of me.” He gave Dipper a small smile. “Wherever you two go, I can go now. So we’ll be traveling a lot I’ll have you know.”

Dipper didn’t exactly know what his heart was doing, but he suspected it was good. Smiling up at the demon in human form, he jested, “You’ll be paying for that traveling, I’ll have _you_ know.”

“With pleasure.”

Dipper beamed up at Bill, somehow forgetting the fact that he had just been kidnapped and almost sacrificed. He was more focused on the fact that he wasn’t going to have to say goodbye to Bill and leave him behind here after all. Dipper went to hug the demon, only to recall that he had in fact been kidnapped and was still bound at the wrists. “This is great and all, but could you untie me before carrying me off into the sunset?”

“Nah.”

Dipper honestly expected as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a fun ride y'all. Thank you for enjoying a fic I started out having absolutely no idea what to do with then winding up having a hell of a good time with.


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